


soldier, poet, king

by RJam9



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: (all of those are just for chp 3), Accidental Baby Acquisition, Angst, Aziraphale and Crowley are Adam Young's Parents (Good Omens), Childhood, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Growing Up, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Ineffable Family, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, Marriage Proposal, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, POV Third Person Omniscient, Parent Aziraphale (Good Omens), Parent Crowley (Good Omens), Tags will be added, also i can’t do the fancy footnote things, anyways it’s an Aziraphale and Crowley raise Adam AU, but they have their shit together, guys im ace/aro so the romantic scenes might be awkward but everything else is okay i promise, i cant believe i didn’t have the tag in here before, i did SO much research on babies and children for this, i tried to keep it gen but i probably dropped the f bomb in here somewhere, no beta we saunter vaguely downward like crowley, thats a tag right??, there’s a few very very brief mentions but i wanted to warn everyone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 47,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25452895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RJam9/pseuds/RJam9
Summary: Eleven years ago, the Antichrist was born, set to bring upon the end of the world in due time. He was suppose to be delivered to the Order of the Chattering Nuns the night of his birth by the demon Crowley.And that’s what happened. Well, what everyone thinks that happened.In reality, Crowley snuck the baby home to a lovely little bookshop in Soho, where him and an angel by named of Aziriphale lived. The couple decided that instead of letting the boy be raised by humans who didn’t understand his destiny, they would take over custody of him themselves.That was eleven years ago. Now, the day of Adam C. Fells eleventh birthday is coming to, and with his parents and friends by his side, Adam hopes he can face his destiny and not let the world die, since he quite likes the Earth and doesn’t want it to end.Well, expect for the fact there’s a lot of other players in this game running about, and thing don’t go exactly as planned. That’s alright, I guess. You’ve got to work with what you got.(aka, another Aziraphale and Crowley raise Adam AU)
Relationships: Anathema Device & Adam Young, Aziraphale & Adam Young (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Gabriel (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Brian & Pepper & Wensleydale & Adam Young (Good Omens), Crowley & Adam Young (Good Omens)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 40





	1. 01 - 'Cause I've been waiting for this moment all my life

**Author's Note:**

> hello! if you’re reading this, why?
> 
> anyways this completely ,,, spiralled out of control. and its also the longest fic ive ever written so that’s. something.
> 
> note: been awhile since ive watched the series!! so like ,, some minor details might be off just as a warning.
> 
> anyways, pleases enjoy and i apologize in advance for whatever dumpster fire this ends up being.
> 
> fic title: Soldier, Poet, King by the Oh Hellos  
> forward title: Birthday Party by AJR  
> chapter title: Golden Dandelions by Barns Courtney  
> (i used way too many song lyrics in this shut up)

_ This hospital's got lots of crying kids  
_  
_A minute ago, I did not exist_

_ It's nice to finally meet my relatives _

_I bet it's always gonna stay this fun  
  
I bet it's easy staying 'way from drugs_

_ I bet our parents always stay in love _

_ (Always stay in love) _

  
***

  
ELEVEN YEARS AGO

(2008, England)

“Oh, quit crying.” 

The demon glanced at the basket in the passenger seat, which was jiggling uncomfortably with every bump in the road. Inside the woven fibres, the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, Lord of Darkness was wailing quite loudly.

The demon, who in question was named Anthony J. Crowley, though he usually just went by Crowley, grumbled loudly as the wailing continued. The black car, a Bentley, which was also the cars given name, sped along the quiet paved road, the softly twinkling stars being the only lights to lead the way.

At this time of night, there was only an occasional tourist that Crowley passed on his way to the hospital. This hospital, however, was secretly run by an order of satanic nuns, who were going to switch the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, Lord of Darkness with a perfectly normal human baby.

That was the plan, and Crowley intended to follow it.

The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, Lord of Darkness, also known as the Antichrist, for short, exhaled a loud, ear-piercing shriek, which made Crowley jump in his seat before giving up on ignoring the crys and pulling over to the side of the road in a curt movement.

“Alright, alright.” He left the car running, but leaned over to open the hatch on the basket that revealed a tiny face, currently wrinkled in its efforts to permanently make him deaf. “What do you want?”

If the baby could talk, it would probably say something along the lines of ‘this basket is not very comfortable, and you speeding down this potholed infested road in the dead of night is not helping ether, and I’m getting quite a headache’. However, babies can not talk, so it had resorted to screaming out his frustrations, to the demons annoyance.

“Okay, okay,  okay .” Crowley removed the top of the basket to get a better look at the Antichrist. It was waving its tiny feet and hands around as if swimming, making the blanket it was swaddled in tangled. “Shush, shush. Shut it, now. I can’t concentrate on driving if you continue on like this. I won’t be able to avoid the bumps, for starters, which I guess is why you’re yelling this loud.”

The Antichrist kept screaming. 

Crowley sighed, and brushed his fingers on the baby’s forehead. It stilled, the crying ceasing into small whimpers as it stared up at Crowley with baby blue eyes. The demon raised an eyebrow at the now quiet child, and removed his hand. After a moment, the sobs built up before erupting in the full-blown wails again.

Crowley quickly replace his hand, gently stroking the baby’s head so it calmed down. He scowled half-heartedly, mostly for appearance sake, but continued until the baby was gurgling happily.

“Now I can’t drive like this, can I *?” Crowley said softly, staring at the baby behind his dark sunglasses.

* He could drive one handed, but this gave him the excuse to continue stroking the baby, which he kinda liked doing.

The baby mummered and leaned into the touch. Crowley sighed again and retracted his hand, but before the screaming began again, he reached over to slowly lift the baby from the basket and hold it in the crook of his elbow.

“Oh, there you go. Yeah, you good now?” Crowley bounced the baby in a way that was totally demonic and  not parental in the slightest. “You’re not gonna start crying on me again, are you?”

The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, Lord of Darkness, did not, in fact, start crying. Instead, it snuggled unconsciously closer to Crowley’s chest, content know that it was warm and would not be jiggled anymore by things in the road.

Crowley, however, looked down at the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, Lord of Darkness, cuddled into his chest, and uttered one brief word.

“Shit.”

***

Sister Mary Loquacious was a Satanist, but you never would have guessed if you had met her in passing. She was a bit absentminded, but tried her best, and was quite intuitive if she put her head to something. 

While she had been a Satanist since birth, but her time in the Chattering Order was limited. She had only joined a few years ago, and soon there would be no Chattering Order left to speak of.

She didn’t know that yet, though.

Sister Mary walked down the freshly washed halls with a soft ‘click clack’ from her heels against the tiled floor. Currently, in Room 3 of the hospital-that-wasn’t-really-a-hospital, a young woman named Deirdre Young was giving birth to a baby boy that we’ll call Baby A.

Her husband, Arthur Young, is waiting outside, smoking a cigar. They had not been planned to arrive to the hospital, but have been driving by when Deirdres water had broke and, in a blind panic, Arthur pulled up to the first building he saw, which happened to be a hospital. How lucky.

In Room 4, Harriet Dowling is giving birth to a son we’ll call Baby B, who is the child of an American ambassador. This American ambassador was meeting with the US President at this current moment, conversing through FaceTime with his wife.

Crowley has just arrived to the hospital, with the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, Lord of Darkness, who we’ll call Baby C for the time being, nestled in the crook of his arm.

The plan of the Order of Chattering Nuns is for Crowley to hand Baby C over to a nun, who will wait with it as Baby A and Baby B were born. Once the births were finished, Baby A and Baby B will be taken to be washed and weighed, where Baby B will be switched with Baby C, and all will be good.

The unexpected Baby A will be with his parents, the Youngs, Baby C, aka the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, Lord of Darkness, will be with the Dowlings, and Baby B, the biological son of Dowlings, will be shipped off to who knows where.

Crowley, however, has other plans. 

See, when Crowley has held The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, Lord of Darkness, he realized that he did not want this child to destroy the world in eleven years time.

He liked the world, and  some of the people in it, so he wanted the child to have a good influence in its life to help sway it towards keeping the Earth the way it was. So, he didn’t want it growing up with an American, because from what he had seen and heard since America came into power, they were nothing but trouble.

So, the only viable option was taking the baby home with him to raise alongside his partner.

He was, of course, somewhat confident that he and his partner knew how to take care of a child, and that after the initial shock his partner would agree to the totally safe, fool-proof plan on avoiding the apocalypse, but that still left the problem of the Chattering Nuns and the demons who expect the Antichrist to be switched the American ambassadors kid.

So, Crowley developed a plan. Well, not a plan, exactly. Just a serious of complicated lies. Still a plan, he argued.

***

The door of the Bentley slammed shut as Crowley nudged it with his free shoulder. At the loud bang, the baby let out a small yelping sound, which Crowley quickly dispersed with a small brush on the forehead.

“Yeah, that’s it. All quiet and sleepy now, good boy.” He muttered quietly.

Crowley looked up from the child to the main doors of the hospital. There was only one man standing outside, from what he saw smoking, so he quickly walked forward, ignoring him.

“You've left your lights on," The man spoke up helpfully, making Crowleys attention snap towards him. He had dark hair and a round chin, and kept glancing at the child in Crowleys arm.

Crowley stopped, giving him a cold stare, then used his free hand to snap his fingers together. The lights of the Bentley went out, letting the yard fall into darkness. The man nodded in admiration.

"That's neat.” he said. "Infra-red, is it?"

Crowley titled his head, and ignored the question. “Which room is it?” He waved his hand vaguely.

“Well, we’re in Room 3.” The man said. “My wifes delivering, so they made me go out. Are you the doctor?”

The mans gaze averted to the baby, and Crowley tightened his grip. “Sure, I guess.”

“Oh, okay.” The expecting father shrugged. “Good luck.”

Crowley hummed a bit, then started to head inside. Before he could open the door, however, the human stepped forward, cutting Crowley off, to pull it open for him with a small smile. The demon, not realizing it was a kind gesture at first, felt his lips curl up into a snarl and unconsciously pressed the baby further into his chest. The man didn’t seem to notice.

“You look like you’ve got your hands full. I’m Arthur, by the way. Arthur Young.” The man said. He glanced at the baby. “Cute kid. Is it yours?”

Crowley looked down at it, slotted perfectly into his arms as it slept soundly, and felt his heart burst a little at the sight. “Yeah. I guess he is.”

He stepped inside the warm building and left Mr. Young behind, heading towards Room 3 by following the gleaming signs tacked on at every corner. However, slowly he came to a stop to think his plan through.

Yes, he was doing this. He was going to steal a baby.

He shook his head and looked around, eyes falling on a delivering crib placed hazardly in a closet with the door slightly ajar. One-handily, still keeping the baby as still as he possibly could, pushed the door open with his foot and placed the baby in the crib.

At the loss of contact, it began crying again.

“Shush shush shush shush.” Crowley said as he wheeled the baby out and into Room 3.

The baby did, in fact, shush, but mostly because it was tired and out of tears left to cry. The wails turned into soft whimpers as Crowley took in the small white room. The lights inside were brighter and harsher then the ones in the hallway, and made Crowley blink behind his sunglasses as his eyes tried to adjust.

The only person in it was Mrs. Young, asleep and confident that she could rest now that her job was done. Quietly, as to not wake her, the demon placed his cart side-by-side with the one next to the sleeping woman, currently holding her sleeping son.

He hadn’t even taken a step back when the door was thrown open again, and Sister Mary Loquacious stumbled in. At first, she didn’t noticed the demon standing next to the babies, but as soon as she did she gasped quite loudly.

“Mr. Crowley.” She bowed her head in greeting, and Crowley squirmed uncomfortably. She looked at the two babies “Is that - which one is he?”

Crowley shrugged, and pointed at the baby closest to the bed. “That one. I delivered it to Americans already, no need to thank me.” At the weird look the nun gave him, he raised an eyebrow “These  are the Americans, right?”

She nodded vigorously “Yes, I do believe so. I’ll inform everyone else the babies have been switched, al-already. That’s what you meant, right?”

He nodded. 

“But sir, may I ask?”

He waved a hand for her to continue, hiding his cringe at the ‘sir’ bit.

“Why are you still here?”

“Oh.” He blinked. “I’m here to take the extra. You know, dispose of it.”

She looked upset for a moment, but it disappeared quickly. “Of course. I’ll just...take this baby to be washed and weighed.”

Crowley stepped back to let her wheel the normal baby away, muttering under her breath. “Oh, now look at you! You look...normal. No little hoofie woofies or hornie wornies. Ah, fancy me with the Antichrist.” *

* When Sister Mary informed the other Nuns that Mr. Crowley had already switched the babies, they were quite shocked, as no one had seen him exit or enter the Americans room. However, they quickly brushed it aside, as, one, he was a demon, after all, and two, it wasn’t good to go around questioning what demons do.

She bustled out of the room with the cart, and Crowley followed a moment later after picking up the Antichrist. Before leaving, however, he stopped to look at Mrs. Youngs sleeping form.

“You’re welcome.” He muttered softly, before quickly fleeing the scene.

***

“Angel, before you say anything, I  do have an explanation.”

Aziraphale looked up from his book as the door to the bookshop was unceremoniously flung open. Peaking over the edge of his glasses, he gave his partner a confused stare as he stepped around the many bookshelves to reach him.

“I’m not going to like this, are I?” He asked. When no reply came, he sighed, and put his book down and removed his glasses, folding them on top of the book.

Crowley stood awkwardly in front of him, half-hiding behind one of the bookshelves. However, what he immediately noticed was that the demon was holding a closed wicker basket, and that he could sense ... something inside, shifting and mummering.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale said slowly, as if he was talking to a startled cat. “What’s in the basket?”

Crowley just adjusted his grip on the basket handle. Starting to get nervous, the angel stood up and padded over to his partner, who was uncharacteristically silent, and gently opened the lid of the basket.

There was a small, round face staring back up at him.

Startled, he immediately dropped the lid and stood up, sending Crowley a befuddled expression. Crowley swallowed, nervous. “Like I said, I have an explanation.” 

“ _ Crowley _ —“ He said, shocked, if a bit accusing. “That is a baby.”

Crowley rolled his eyes behind his black sunglasses. “I know that, angel.”

“Why do you have a baby?” He asked in a horrified whisper. As if on cue, the baby in the basket began whimpering softly. Aziraphale only watched as Crowley set the basket down, opened it, then gently lifted the baby into his arms and started making shushing noises. *

* Of course, Aziraphale had known Crowley for 6000 years, at this point, so he knew that the demon always had a soft spot for children. Aziraphale liked them too, of course, as he  _ was _ an angel, but he preferred them when they were old enough to mostly take care of themselves and wouldn’t accidentally spit all over his books.

“Crowley, please answer me.” He pleaded, making the demon look back at him and not the fussing baby. “Why do you have a baby? I thought you were called for - for work.”

There was a small pause as Crowley tried to figure out the best words to explain what he had done, then just decided to put it simply. “This is the Antichrist. I stole it.”

Aziraphale blinked at him. Then blinked again. “Pardon me?”

“I said I stole the Antichrist, angel.” Crowley said, not quite looking at his partner and instead pretending to be completely absorbed with the baby in his arms. “Hastur and Ligur gave it to me to deliver, but I just ... didn’t. It was suppose to be switched with an American ambassadors kids, but I just  made them think it was switched instead.”

Aziraphale shook his head, not quite believing what he was being told. Well, he believed that Crowley would mess around with orders given to him by the other demons, but the fact that this was the Antichrist set to bring about the end of the world ... he recalled his cryptic conversation with Gabriel earlier *, and nearly shuddered.

* The archangel had showed up in the bookshop just as Crowley had left (after being called in by the people downstairs), and had startled him so much he almost dropped the cup of tea he was holding.

“He looks normal.” He said dumbly. Crowley arched an eyebrow.

“Well, duh, of course.” He replied, starting to gently rock the aforementioned baby as well. “He only comes into his powers on his eleventh birthday.”

“Eleven years?” Oh, goodness. That wasn’t very long away at all.

“Yes, which is why ... which is why I stole it.” Crowley said. He took a deep breath * before continuing. “I don’t want the world to end, and I know you don’t, either, angel.”

* Which he didn’t really need, but it was one of those pesky human habits you pick up on after years of living on Earth. 

“Obviously.” Aziraphale said, prompting his partner to go on.

“So, I was thinking we - we raise him.” Crowley said. “As our own. You know, give him a bit of demonic  and angelic influence in his life, so hopefully, when the time comes, he ... doesn’t end the world, obviously. Just keeps it the way it is.”

There was another moment of quiet in the bookshop as Aziraphale stewed over those words. Crowley occupied himself with the baby, before being snapped back by Aziraphale saying softly, and a little bit dazed. “We’d be parents.”

“Yes, we’d be ... parents.” Crowley said the word slowly, as if his tongue wasn’t use to it.

Aziraphale looked at the baby again, once again quiet and now gripping Crowleys jacket in a lazy fist, and he felt his heart clench. This was happening fast, but really, you should expect that if your partner is one Anthony J. Crowley.

“Yes.” Crowley looked up at him, startled, and Aziraphale gave him a smile. “Yes, then. We’ll raise him. Together.”

Crowley was frozen for a moment, but melted when the angel leaned over to kiss him on the lips. When he moved away, Crowley didn’t say anything, as he wasn’t entirely sure his vocal chords were working at the moment, and instead his gaze dropped to the bundle in his arms. Aziraphales eyes followed his, and they both watched the baby sleep.

It wouldn’t be easy. The baby was the Antichrist, after all, and they were an angel and demon who still needed to report to their higher-ups and weren’t, technically, suppose to have this baby. Not to mention all the other things that came along with taking care of a human child. However, Crowley forgot about all of that when his angel leaned down and planted a soft kiss on the babys —  their babys — forehead.

“Hello, my dear boy.” Aziraphale said, and it was the softest Crowley had ever felt.

***

PRESENT DAY

(2018, England)

Adam C. Fell woke up slowly as if from a very pleasant dream. The sun was shining in through the gap in his curtains, and he squinted his eyes against the onslaught. He had hoped to sleep in on this particular day, but it appeared that those plans were now ruined.

Pushing himself up to his elbows, he yawned and rubbed sleep from the corners of his eyes. However, he didn’t appear to be the only one awake, as he heard shuffling in the hallway. If he laid back down quickly, maybe he could pretend to be asleep and wouldn’t have to get it up.

“Good morning, my dear.” His dad greeted through the crack in his doorway. He had a book tucked under one arm, and was almost smiling bright enough to match his pale hair.

Too late , Adams brain grumbled.

“I’m sleeping.” He said, trying to feign a droopy voice. “It would be rude to wake me up.”

“Oh, and have you taken to sleep talking, then?” Aziraphale rolled his eyes, but kept smiling at the boy none the less. “Well, if you’re sleeping, then I might as well go tell pops to stop making breakfast.”

Adam sat up in bed, suddenly a lot more awake. “I’m coming.”

Aziraphale just chuckled, knowing how well that trick worked, and moved out of the way so Adam could patter downstairs to the kitchen. His frown fell when out of view of the boy, however, as he followed him down, clutching his book a little tighter to his chest.

The smell of pancake batter wafted through the air. When Adam entered the kitchen, he saw his pops at the stove with a spatula. At the sound of his footstep, he turned, showing off a bright pink apron that was a gag gift was Adam that last Christmas and shiny black sunglasses perched in his nose.

“Oh, the birthday boys awake!” Crowley said as he entered. 

Adam swallowed thickly, remembering it was, in fact, his birthday. Usually, those were times of celebration, for every kid, but this particular one was special for a different * reason. However, he smiled before his pops could notice his doubt.

* In this case, different had a secondary, secret meaning of ‘absolutely horrible’.

“Dad said you were making breakfast.” Adam explained as he sat down at the table. Because of school, and his parents angelic-slash-demonic work, it was rare when they all had time to sit down and eat together *, so whenever their schedules did line up, Adam forwent his usual cereal and milk for whatever Crowley had decided to make.

* With family meals, Crowley usually cooked, but didn’t eat, sticking to drinks and leaving the actual chewing and swallowing to Adam and Aziraphale. When he did consume food, he had a bad snake habit of swallowing things whole, which horrified Aziraphale but enraptured Adam.

Besides, it was his birthday, after all.

“You never wake up over  _ my _ breakfast.” Aziraphale teased as he entered the kitchen. He pressed a quick kiss to Crowleys cheek as he passed, then sat at the end of the table, opening his book to the last marked page.

“Look, angel, don’t take it the wrong way, but your cooking skills stink.” Crowley said. “I have no idea how you manage to mess it up, you’re just following the recipe.”

Adam added to Aziraphale. “And you’re an angel. Between you two, I feel like you should be able to cook more.”

Said angel rolled his eyes good-naturally and flipped a page of his book. “It’s a good thing I don’t cook, then.”

“Yes, or we’d all get food poisoning.” Crowley said. 

He glared at his husband. “Now, I wouldn’t say it’s  that bad.”

“It is.” Adam said, hiding his growing grin behind his fist. Aziraphale turned his glare upon the boy, now, but there wasn’t any malice or parental anger behind it, so Adam wasn’t in trouble.

The kitchen then fell into comfortable silence as Adam waited for breakfast, Crowley cooked, and Aziraphale read. When Crowley announced the pancakes were done, Adam grabbed a plate and utensils and let the demon stack the food. They were his favourite, ones with so many chocolate chips it wasn’t even really a pancake anymore, but when he sat down at the table again he found his hunger was replaced with a knot in his stomach.

He stared blankly at his food for a few minutes before his parents notice. His pops did first, and when he saw, he walked over and leaned across the table that would have Aziraphale scolding him (“It’s not polite, my dear.”) if Adam didn’t look so dejected. The demon reached over and tapped the boy on the forehead to make him look up.

“What’s wrong?” Crowley asked. “You usually have your breakfast done in minutes.”

The boy fiddled with his utensils, previously waiting untouched on the table. “I’m not that hungry.”

“Are you sure? It’s your favourite.” Aziraphale said, noticing the conversation. Of course, he had a brief idea of why Adam didn’t want to eat, but he was hoping the breakfast would have cheered him up.

“Maybe you’d feel better with some cake, yeah?” Crowley said, ever the tempter. Adam shook his head, which made the demon frown.

“I’m ... I’m really nervous.” Adam admitted, dropping his gaze to the floor. 

“It’s gonna be fine, alright?” Crowley said softly. “We know what’s coming, and we know what to do. There’s nothing worse then going in unprepared.” His voice became lighter. “Besides, it’s your birthday. You can’t be dreary on your birthday.”

Adam cracked a small, if bitter, smile. “I don’t  want it to be my birthday.”

“Are you sure?” Aziraphale asked. He stood up and came to stand beside the boys chair, placing a hand on his soft bedhead and briefly brushing a few strand curls away from his eyes. “Because if it isn’t your birthday, then I wonder whose presents are in the living room right now.”

Adam looked up hopefully. He hadn’t noticed anything in the living room when he came down, but he must have been too caught up at the prospect of food to realize. Or Aziraphale had miracled the presents into the living room. Either one. “Can I ...?”

“Finish your breakfast first, dear.” Aziraphale said with a laugh, patting Adam on the shoulder. “You’ll feel better with food in you.”

Adam didn’t admit it, but once he ate some of his pancakes, the knot in his stomach did start to shrink. He could almost pretend it was a normal birthday as he cleaned his dishes and let his parents lead him to the living room, where he saw the brightly-coloured boxes on the table.

He sat down on the carpet, his parents coming to sit beside him, and grabbed the first present. Small, with blue wrapping paper. He could see lots of tape and ripped edges, which probably meant his parents had tried wrapping it themselves. He giggled at the thought of that.

“What’s so funny?” Crowley asked, nudging his shoulder with his own.

“Nothing.” Adam replied, and he started ripping apart the paper.

The boy grinned when he saw his first present. It was just a plain grey shirt with the logo for the band  _ Queen _ on it *, but he felt the material between his fingers and it was incredibly soft. “Oh, cool.”

* Adam loved the band ever since he was introduced to it, and he was introduced to it at a  very young age, seeing that the only car his parents ever owned, the Bentley, only played Queen. Crowley had a love-hate relationship with the band. On one hand, he heard it every time he put a cassette tape in or turned the radio on in his car, but on the other, he had some particularly fond memories of a young Adam trying to sing along to Bohemian Rhapsody while missing his two front teeth.

“Come on, there’s more.” Aziraphale prompted. Adam put the shirt down and continued unwrapping.

From his parents, he got a few more shirts with various band, tv shows, movies and book symbols on them, a pair of earbuds to replace his old ones that only worked on on one side, the newest book in the series he was reading that he hadn’t gotten a chance to read it yet, and a Doctor Who lego set. However, he frowned in confusion at the box when he realized something.

“How’d you get this?” He shook the box, hearing the bricks clink around inside. “I thought it wasn’t out for another few weeks.”

“I have my ways.” His pops said. If he wasn’t wearing his glasses, he would have winked. Instead, he settled to nudging Adam with his elbow. “Demon, after all.”

Adam hummed in agreement, but his thoughts began to drift about to what was going to happen later at the mention of ‘demon’. His parents must have noticed his sour look, however, because both shuffled closer so they pressed up against him. Squashed in the middle, Adam didn’t move when Crowley wrapped his arm around his shoulders, and his dad grabbed his hand.

“It’ll be fine, my dear.” The angel said. Crowley was rubbing soothing circles along his back, soft and gentle as if he didn’t exactly know how *. “ We’ll be fine.”

* To be fair to Crowley, the demon usually left the more ‘physical’ aspects of comfort to Aziraphale.

He swallowed thickly before he spoke, voice shaking a little. “I’m worried I’m ... not going to be ready.” His parents had plans for every possible scenario that could go down, but planning for something was different then being in the middle of it.

“Look, the Hellhound will arrive at three.” Crowley said. “You’ll have plenty of time to prepare.”

“I don’t  _ need _ to prepare.” Adam said. The word ‘Hellhound’ made little bells ring in his head. “I know what to do. I just don’t have to name it, right?”

“Let’s hope is that simple.” Aziraphale said, almost wistful.

“I’m just ... scared, that’s all.” Adam said. “If I come into my powers, I wouldn’t know how to control them. What if I accidentally hurt someone? I could hurt you guys, or my friends.”

“You’re not going to hurt us, Adam.” Crowley said. “Or your friends. You’re a good kid, I don’t think you  could hurt us, even if you wanted too.”

Adam only sighed, and leaned his head against Aziraphales shoulder. The angel was soft and warm, a perfect pillow, and he let his eyes drift shut for a moment as his pops reached over to card a hand through his hair.

The thing about Adam was that he ... wasn’t normal, to put it lightly. On his eleventh birthday, which happened to be  this birthday, a Hellhound would arrive to him and signal the end of the world. Adam was then expected to come into his destructive powers and, well, bring about Armageddon. He was  the Antichrist. 

However, his parents — adopted, obviously — were an angel and a demon, and had informed him of what was to come. So, hopefully, altogether they could stop the apocalypse and save the world. That was a lot of pressure for a young boy, which is why he was feeling so, for lack of a better word, nervous. Though, really, nervous didn’t even begin to describe what he felt.

The family sat there for a minute in silence, basking in the others presences and trying to calm their nerves. Eventually, Aziraphale broke it by shifting over enough to press a kiss to Adams hairline, before saying;

“Now, dear, if you’re feeling up to it, I have an  _ inkling _ of suspicion your friends are waiting for you down in the woods.”

At that, Adam started to beam. “Can I go?“

“You just need to be back home before three o’clock. That’s when the Hellhound is suppose to arrive.” Crowley warned. Adam felt his heart skip a beat just thinking about it. “And get dressed first.”

“Okay!” Adam exclaimed, excited at the prospect of playing with his friends. He had been nervous that his parents would want him home all day, and that he wouldn’t be able to celebrate with his friends. Usually, they would organize a sleepover for his, or anyone one of theirs, birthday, but because of the Hellhounds scheduled arrival, Adam decided not to have one.

He grabbed his presents and rushed upstairs to his room to get changed, barley remembering to brush his teeth before racing back down the stairs. 

“Remember, three o’clock!” Aziraphale cried as Adam barrelled into the room. Him and Crowley had now moved to the couch, the angel reading and the demon scrolling through his phone while taking up at least two cushions.

“Alright, I remember. Three o’clock.” He confirmed as he grabbed his running shoes from where they sat at the front door. He barley had them on and tied before he was opening the door and waving goodbye. “Bye! Love you!”

“Love you too.” Aziraphale said, waving back.

With Adam gone, both of his fathers sighed and looked at each other. It was going to be a long day, for everyone, and they just hoped that Adam would manage to find some enjoyment with his friends before the hellhound arrived.

“I should be heading off too.” Crowley pocketed his phone, got up and stretched in a way most humans would describe as ‘boneless’. “Got to go visit the Dowlings. * Warlocks having a birthday party and I get to go as a waiter. Joy.” 

* The Dowlings, of course, were the family Adam was suppose to be delivered too, and Warlock was the boy everyone believed to be the Antichrist. He was an okay kid, if a bit bratty from his rich upbringing and absent father. Crowley checked up on the family every few months or so, posing as many jobs such as a babysitter, repair man, and, on one memorable occasion, a noisy neighbour. 

“Be careful, dear.” Aziraphale said. Crowley clicked his tongue absent-mindedly and leaned down so his face was inches from the angels, close enough to see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes.

“Kiss for good luck?” He asked.

Aziraphale arched an eyebrow but did as asked. Crowley hummed into the kiss and pulled back quickly before he could get distracted. He had a job to do, after all. However, Aziraphale didn’t seem to mind, smiling up at him. This close, Crowley could was delighted to see the crinkles in the corner of his eyes. “I love you, darling. Have fun.”

His heart did the funny little flip that always accompanied those words. He stepped back, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Love you too, angel.”

He then sauntered out the door, if you could call it that, and Aziraphale smiled softly to the empty room before placing his book down. The wrapping paper from Adams gifts was still on the table, and the dishes from breakfast needed to be washed. Of course, he could always miracle it clean, but there was something ...  _ domestic _ about doing it by hand that made him feel fuzzy all over.

He had already decided the bookshop would stay close that day *, but he did also need to stay in Tadfield for when the Hellhound arrived. Thinking about it made his thoughts drift to his family, and their talk with Adam early.

* Like it did every year in Adams birthday.

He was scared. Of course he was. Everything him and his family had built could come crashing down at a moments notice. Heaven and Hell would be watching them like hawks as the apocalypse dawned, and if even one thing slipped, they could be discovered and he couldn’t even _begin_ to  think of what would happen to Crowley and Adam if the other angels figured out what was going on.

He sighed and started cleaning up wrapping paper. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be that dire.

***

“Adam, do you think you’ll get a dog for your birthday?”

Adam was currently in the woods that were located behind his house. The official name was ‘Hogback Woods’, and the boy and his friends had taken it over as their kingdom, where they could play unbothered by adults and destiny and stupid things. The gang called themselves The Them, gaining the ability to strike fear * into the hearts of adults.

* Not fear, really, more just overgrown annoyance.

Pippin Galadriel Moonchild, known mostly as Pepper, was the only female member of the Them. She was also the most headstrong, stubborn, and ambitious of the group, who was always ready to defend them again rival students and adults alike at a moments notice. 

Jermey Wensleydale, more commonly just called Wensleydale or, for short, Wensley, wore glasses which complimented his interest in math well. He was the quieter of the bunch, preferring to stay in the back, but no less curious or meaner than the others.

Brian was the third member of the Them, and on a good day, you could probably recognize that he was a child and not a walking pile of dirt. Not to mean that in a bad way, at all, he just had a habit of getting, well, dirty. Besides that, he was sweet and loyal to fault, which makes him an all around good friend.

And Adam C. Fell, the last member, was their leader. He found their hideout in Hogback Woods, came up with the best games, and his friends would probably describe him as ‘creative’, ‘nice’ and ‘a little bit of a jerk, but only to those he didn’t like’. 

However, currently, Adam was sprawled across the ‘throne’ they had built out of old wood planks scavenged from their houses and old fabric from clothing they had grown out of. It was his turn to sit in it, as it was his birthday, and he had been idly playing with a discarded rope when Wensleydale had asked him the question.

Before he knew about his destiny and the Hellhound, he always bothered his parents for his dog. He had mentioned his wish to his friends more than once, and a few days earlier they had bugged him into asking his parents for one for his birthday *. He had said yes to appease them, and to seemed it was coming back around to bite him.

* None of them had had any pets, expect for Wensleydale pet turtle Seashell who died a few years back, so the prospect of one of them getting a  dog was exciting to everyone.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged “I’m - I  _ wanted _ a dog.”

“You never get what you want.” Pepper branded a stick she was using as a pretend sword at Brain. “I wanted a bike, and I asked for it. And I told my mum I wanted a razor blade saddle, and 12 gears and everything, and do you know what she got me? A girl's bike.” She paused to stare at Adam to emphasis her point. “With a basket.”

“But you are actually a girl, Pepper.” Wensleydale pointed out.

“That's just sexist.” Pepper rolled her eyes.

“I’m getting a dog.” Adam said, willing his voice not to betray him. 

“Oh, right.” She bantered back “And your dads are just going to get you a big old Rottweiler, then, Adam?”

“It wouldn’t be a big dog.” He said. “Just a little one.”

“What would you name it?” Pepper asked curiously.

He frowned. He hadn’t thought about it at all, mostly because his parents said once he named the Hellhound it would his own, and, thus, trigger Armageddon, so all he had to do was just not name it, right? “I dunno.”

“You’ve been talking about wanting a dog for ages now!” Wensleydale exclaimed, while Brian and Pepper just made faces. “You have to have some name picked out.”

“What about ... Spot.” Brian suggested. 

“That wouldn’t work if it didn’t have spots.” Pepper shot back.

“How about you just do what Pokémon professors do.” Wensleydale said. “Just name it ‘Dog’.”

“No, Pokémon are named after the sounds they make.” Pepper said. “You would name a dog ‘Bark’.”

“That’s a stupid name.” Brian said. “Just name it Dog.”

Pepper sighed and rolled her eyes. Before she could reply, Wensleydale piped up, adjusting his glasses by the rim. “Well, it’s not gonna be  your dog. It’s gonna be Adams.”

“Okay, yes, but ...” She trailed off, clearly annoyed at not having the last word in their argument, then turned to Adam. “Okay, Adam, what’s the better name? Bark or Dog?”

Without hesitation, he answered. “Dog.”

Brian groaned. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Saves a lot of trouble, a name like that. It’s easy to remember, and besides, it’s kinda of funny, isn’t it? Just ... look, here’s my dog! ‘Oh, what’s its name?’ It’s name Dog!”

“Great way to confuse people.” Wensleydale said. Pepper and Brian nodded in agreement. Adam smiled, feeling some of his tension melt away as he laughed with his friends.

However, to his absolute horror, he heard barking.

Fear shot through his heart like an arrow, and he suddenly piped up, nearly falling off the chair in the process. All his friends turned to give him strange looks as he got to his feet and started to rush down the fort to the soft earth below. It wasn’t three o’clock already, was it? “I need - need to go.”

“Wait, why?” Pepper asked, dropping her stick and running after him. There was another bark, closer this time, and he sped up to an almost jogging pace.

“My dads told me to be home by three.” He said. “I’m late. They’ll be mad if I’m late.”

“Oh.” Pepper stopped following him, and he heard Wensleydale and Brian jump down from the fort to stand beside her. “We’ll see you later, then?”

Probably not, if his parents reacted badly, but he sent a hopeful. “Yeah!” over his shoulder as he rushed into the trees. The rest of the Them shared confused looks. They had known Adam, and therefore his parents, for most of their young lives, and both men seemed like pretty chill people, and wouldn’t be mad if Adam was a little bit late.

Whatever. Maybe they had plans, or something. Adam had already been weird this week by refusing to have their usual birthday party sleepover *, so there was probably something going on.

* Their ‘birthday party’ sleepovers which the same as any normal sleepover, expect they ate lots of cake and watched superhero movies the entire night until they got scolded by an older sibling or parent.

“Did anyone else hear a dog bark?” Wensleydale asked. Pepper and Brian shrugged, and started to climb back up the fort to continue their sword fight.

***

This was a disaster.

He remembered what his parents had said. Once he named the Hellhound, that meant the end of the world was coming. The four horsemen would be summoned, then Heaven and Hell would clash in a battle that overtook the Earth. And Adam, the Antichrist, was suppose to lead them.

He shuddered. He already lead the Them, he didn’t want to lead an army. And what about his dads? They didn’t want to fight in a war, he didn’t want them to fight in a war. And what would become of Tadfield, and pops Bentley, and dads bookshop? 

He didn’t want to come into his powers. He didn’t want them at all.

He kept up his quick pace through the forest, the sound of wind whistling through the trees and the crunch of leaves under his shoes not calming him like it usually did. His hands shook too much so he stuffed them in his pockets, however, when his one hand brushed the thin card * inside he removed it, letting it swing by his side in a fist.

* Since they weren’t have a ‘traditional party’, Pepper, Wensleydale and Brian had all chipped in some of their allowance to get him a joint gift of a 25$ gift card to the bookstore, and then all made a silly homemade card together, completed with tacky stickers and way too much glitter glue.

A dog barked, closer this time. He quickened his pace. Could he just have imagined it? Oh, please, let it just be his overreacting imagination playing tricks in him —

And then a small, black-and-white dog bounced up to him through the trees.

He yelped and stumbled back in surprise, falling to the dirt with how much he back-pedalled. He groaned at the bruise that began to form on his tailbone, but then realized he had much bigger problems. The dog just barked at him, mouth filled with too sharp teeth and eyes tinged red, that didn’t really match its appearance.

The first thing he noticed from his position on the ground was that the dog was small. Weren’t Hellhounds suppose to be big? It was suppose to signal about the end of the world, and this dog was small enough to fit in a bike basket. When someone said the word ‘Hellhound’, the dog in front of him wasn’t what came to mind.

“Uh, hello.” He said, not entirely sure what else to say.

The dog tilted its head and barked. He winced at the noise. “You’re very loud.” But you should expect that, with a Hellhound.

However, the dog — Dog, he reminded himself, but he felt putting a name to it,  on it, would make it permanent, but he had already done that, hadn’t he? — whined pitifully and didn’t bark. It was oddly smart for a dog. But it wasn’t a normal dog. He had to remind himself of that.

“Please go away. I don’t want you.” He muttered. It whined again, as if he had just scolded it. “I said I don’t _want_ you . Go home, do whatever Hellhounds do.”

Adam got up to his feet, brushed dirt off his jacket, and marched back into the woods. However, his annoyance was faux, covering up fear. He stared very intently as his shoes as he walked away, hoping the Hellhound would follow his orders. Unfortunately, he felt his heart skip double time when the sound of small, quicker footsteps began to follow him.

“Stop following me. Go away.” He said without taking his gaze up from his shoes. The dog didn’t make anymore noises, but didn’t stop moving. He sighed. “Look, I don’t want you, okay? I don’t want to end the world. So just ... go back to Hell or wherever you came from.”

It didn’t.

His blood started to boil and whipped around to pin the dog with his most withering stare as if he was a teacher who found a student cheating in a test. The dog whined, but stopped moving and didn’t make any other noise. 

“I told you. Go. Away.” He growled at it. The dogs eyes flashed and he gritted his teeth. He didn’t swear often *, but he felt the situation called for it. “Fuck.”

* Couldn’t exactly, with one of his parents being an angel. The first time he said ‘shit’ (picked it up from his pops, obviously), Aziraphale had banned sweets for a week and showered so much praise on Crowleys plants that the demon particularly discorporated on the spot when he saw what had become of his garden.

And then a flash of horror drove through him. He had never gotten that angry before — yes, he got angry, it was a normal human emotion — but it had been, well, hot. Burning. Enough to boil the sea. And, strangely enough, for one, simple, tiny second, he almost felt fine with it.

Horrified and scared and still a little bit annoyed at what was going on, he broke out into a run. The dog barked, clearly happy at the exercise, and quickened its pace as well.

***

Adam had all but bolted back through the village and to his home, and anyone who realized it was him and not a brown-and-grey blur would have probably thought he was being chased by the devil himself. And, in a way, it was.

The boy slowed when he reached his house, forcing himself to open the door slowly and not just rip it off its hinges. He barley registered it slamming behind him when he saw Aziraphale. The angel was alone in the living room, reading his book like he alway did, but looked up as Adam entered.

He barley felt the burn in his legs from his run, but his breathing was still ragged when the words tumbled out of his mouth before his dad could ask what was wrong. 

“I named it. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize - I didn’t even know it was three o’clock, me and my friends were just  _ talking _ —“ Tears begin to spring in the corners of Adams eyes. Aziraphale, who couldn’t stand to see anyone cry, especially his son, immediately put his book down and bustled over to where the boy stood, trying to contain his sobs.

“It’s okay, my dear.” Aziraphale said softly, dropping to his knees in front of him. Adam copied, then let the angel gently pull him into his arms. The boy felt safe, all the sudden, and pressed his face into his dads jacket to try and stop the tears from rolling down his face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He kept mumbling. Aziraphale only made soft shushing noises and ran a hand through his curls. Adam just cried and dug his fingers into the angels shirt.

They sat like that, in the middle of their living room, for what could have been minutes or hours as Adam calmed himself down. Eventually, he managed to swallow back his tears and stopped his body from shaking. However, he could still feel the pit in his stomach, and loosened his grip on his dads shirt so his hand didn’t cramp up.

“Where’s pops?” He finally asked, pulling back and wiping his damp cheeks with the back of his hand. 

“He’s visiting the Dowlings.” Aziraphale answered. “The family who everyone thinks has the Antichrist. He won’t be home for awhile.”

Adam nodded. He wondered how Crowley would react to the Hellhound, and how the Hellhound would react to the larger demon. Thinking of that, it reminded him. “It’s - I tried to leave it in the woods, but I think it followed me home.”

Aziraphale hummed. “Yes, of course.” He thought for a moment, than said. “Now, we might as well go see the darn thing. Come on.”

Aziraphale got up from the floor and tugged Adam up with him. The boy wasn’t too keen on seeing the dog, but, after all, he couldn’t just ignore it. Eventually, he would have to face it and he should probably just get it over with before someone noticed it outside.

He followed his dad back to the front door. Slowly, he opened it and saw the Hellhound laying on the front steps. It looked like a completely normal dog, which he guessed was kinda of the point, if a bit small. Maybe that was a good thing.

His dad stayed in the doorway, hesitating. It was a demon, after all. However, Adam, feeling drawn to the Hellhound, stepped into the garden. Immediately, the dog lifted its head and whined at him. It’s eyes flashed with something red, and he frowned.

“What did you name it?” His dad asked, still not moving from his place inside.

“Dog.” He answered. At its name, the Hellhound barked.

He heard the angel chuckle. “Well, that’s not the name you would expect for the Hellhound. Well, it is quite small.”

“That’s one good thing about this.” Adam said bitterly. Finally, Aziraphale braved stepping closer, hoping to comfort the boy again, but startled when the Hellhound growled and bared its teeth threateningly.

“Hey, no! That’s my dad, leave him alone!” Adam snapped at the Hellhound immediately. To his surprise, the dog compiled, stepping back with its tail behind its legs while whining. “Oh.”

“It listens to whatever you say.” The angel said.

“Can I tell it to go away?” Adam asked hopefully. However, based of what had happened in the woods, it wouldn’t work.

“Not that, unfortunately.” Aziraphale confirmed. 

The boy frowned, then turned back to the dog. It looked up at him with big eyes, as if it wanted a treat and not to bring about the end of the world. Slowly, as if he couldn’t help himself, Adam bent down to his knees. His dad didn’t object, so he reached over and scratched it behind the ears. It’s tail starting to wag.

“He seems normal.” Adam said after a moment. “Not evil at all.”

Aziraphale didn’t say anything *, only hummed. Adam continued to pet the dog, before his legs eventually became cramped at his position and he stood up, glancing back at his dad.

* His first immediate thought was that that was what he thought when he saw Adam for the first time, but he didn’t think the boy would appreciate a reminder of his destiny at the moment.

“Can we go back inside now?” Adam asked.

Aziraphale nodded. “Of course. If my memory is correct, I do believe you still have a cake left to eat.”

Adam smiled at that, and went to follow his dad back inside. However, when he went to step into the house, he heard the ‘trot-trot’ of dog claws on the ground and turned. Dog had stood up and went to follow them inside. Aziraphale glanced at Adam, but the boy was already pointing a stern finger at the animal. “No. Stay outside.”

It whined, but did as told. When it laid back down, it rested its head on its paw and sighed through its nose. It looked positively  sad . 

Adam and Aziraphale looked at each other, then the angel shook his head in disbelief at the ‘mighty’ Hellhound. “Well, at least we know it follows your orders.”

***

By the time Crowley pulled up to the house, it was nighttime.

The sky was a dark, deep blue, and dotted with small pinpricks of light far off where humans couldn’t reach. The demon spent a moment staring up the night sky when he stepped out of the Bentley, the soothing voice of Freddie Mercury cutting off as he closed the door.

Crowley knew Adam had named the Hellhound, obviously. He could feel it, being a demon after all. Besides, Aziraphale had called him on his way home to explain what happened. The angel had talked softly and shakily, as if he was afraid of breaking. It made his heart hurt.

The dog had moved into the backyard, so Crowley went through the front to avoid it. He had already called Hell to confirm the Hellhound had arrived, in all its large and slobbery glory, but Aziraphale had said the dog had become tiny little mutt which almost made him giggle.

When he stepped into the house, he could see Aziraphale sitting on the couch, reading from the book he had started that morning. However, at the sound of the door opening, the angel looked up with hopeful eyes and his face softened when he saw Crowley.

“Hello, dear.” The angel greeted with a small smile. “How was the party?”

“Lousy.” He replied. “A food fight started. I got  _cake_ in my  _hair_ .” He liked a good little chaos now and then, but he didn’t actually like being in the middle of it. He had gotten rid of most of the cake, but he swore he could still feel wisps of icing holding locks of his hair together.

“Oh, poor you.” Aziraphale teased. He frowned * and walked over, discarding his glasses in his pocket. The lighting was dim, and besides, he almost never wore his glasses in the house anyways. He wasn’t trying to hide anything.

* Aziraphale would call it more of a pout, but Crowley would deny it to his last breath, because demons don’t pout.

Crowley stopped in front of his husband, about to fire back another snarky remark that would make the angel stifle an exasperated and soft smile, but he was looking up at him expectantly with pretty eyes and an adorable face so Crowley leaned down to kiss him hello.

When they parted, the angel was still smiling brightly so Crowley averted his gaze, as if he could get burned if he looked too long, and collapsed beside him on the couch. Surprisingly, the angel didn’t turn back to his book, instead sighing and grabbing Crowley’s hand, which rest lightly on the couch cushion between them.

“How is he?” Crowley questioned after a moment. 

“Asleep.” Aziraphale replied. He traced a finger lightly the back of Crowleys hand, drawing patterns on the skin. “He was a wreck when he got home, but we had cake and he started his lego set, so I think he’s feeling a bit better.”

Crowley knew the angel had tried his best, but, knowing Adam, he was probably still worked up over. “What‘did he name it?”

“Dog.” Aziraphale smiled when he saw Crowley stifle his own smile. “He said his friends were asking him what a better name for a dog would be and he answered. I guess it counted.” 

Crowley snorted. That seemed like exactly the kind of trick that the universe would pull on you, even being as vague as possible brought upon the apocalypse. Then, he sighed. The poor boy was probably tearing himself up over it. A habit he was trying to get him to unlearn, but wasn’t particularly succeeding in.

“I’m going to go say goodnight.” He told Aziraphale. The angel nodded, stole another quick kiss, then let go of his hand to turn back to his book. Crowley, smiling a little, stood up and trotted upstairs to Adams room.

He slowed as he came to Adams door. It was cracked open, which he knew was still a habit from when the boy was little and eavesdropped on Crowley and Aziraphale when he pretended to be asleep. Though he would never admit it to the angel, Crowley was proud that Adam had figured out how to do so for at least a little while before they noticed.

Snapping back to the present, Crowley slowly peaked inside. Adam was cuddled up in his bed, curled into a small ball, with only his wild curls and closed eyes above the blankets. He looked so, so incredibly young and it made his heart clench. It seemed, that despite the whirlwind of today, he had managed to relax enough to sleep.

“Pops?” Adam asked, voice tired and still laced with the warm tone of sleepiness.

“Oh, hey, Adam.” He said softly, afraid to break the peaceful tranquility that had settled over the room. “I didn’t think you were awake.”

“I was waiting till’ you got home.” He mumbled, pressing his face deeper into his pillow. “I love you.”

No matter how long Crowley continued to raise Adam (alongside Aziraphale, of course), his heart still did a flip whenever those words were exchange. Throat suddenly tight, thinking they might not have many more chances to do so, he replied. “I love you too. Goodnight, Adam.”

“Goodnight.” Adam replied, then Crowley shut the door and headed back downstairs. He was surprised to see Aziraphale watching him, smiling softly with his book in his lap. 

Crowley smiled back. However, for some reason, that made the angel frown and it immediately sent off warning bells in his head. “Everything alright?”

His partner sighed. “I’m worried for him.”

Oh. Crowley swallowed, aware that his eyes were entirely bare. “I am, too. He’s - he’s too young to have this much responsibility.”

“I know.” Aziraphale breathed. Slowly, he put aside his book and stood up. Crowley met him in the middle. Feeling calmer when pressed up close with his angel, Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphales middle and felt him do the same as well, fists gripping his jacket. 

“We’re going to help him, though, and he has his friends. They don’t know what’s going on, but they can offer some distraction. And we’ll be there.” Crowley said, then sighed again. “Maybe that’ll be enough.”

“Maybe it will.” Aziraphale mumbled into his shoulder, and they held each other tight, and pretended there wasn’t a Hellhound outside, and that everything wasn’t starting to fall apart.


	2. 02 - But all good devils masquerade under the light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale meets with his superiors, Adam plays with his friends, and a witch moves to Tadfield.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone!! welcome back. im a dumbass and had the title of the actual goddamn fic misspelled and i apologize but its hopefully fixed now.
> 
> just to note again: its been awhile since ive watched the series, so things aren’t gonna be entirely perfect. ive being getting dialogue from transcripts online bc i dont have time to rewatch all the episodes.
> 
> chapter title: Turn the Lights Off by Tally Hall
> 
> edit 03/12/20: like most people (i think) i used ‘Ezra’ as Aziraphales fake human name bc it sounds similar. however i realized that doesn’t make much sense given ‘A. Z Fell & Co’ so i changed it to Alexander for this fic. if you see Ezra used at any point in this chapter pls point it out to me bc i tried to change them all but i might have missed a few. thanks everyone!

Adam awoke that morning in a similar way he had the day previous, slowly, to light streaming across his face from his windows and to the sound of his parents shuffling out in the hallway. However, this morning, he didn’t try to feign sleep and instead got up, pushing himself out from under the warm blankets and braving the chilliness of his room.

However, he was just about to put on his slippers and head downstairs when he heard footsteps stop just outside his door.

“Are you up now, Adam?” His dad asked. He opened the door and the angel was standing outside in the hallway, and blinked. “Oh, yes. You are.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Good mornin’.”

“Good morning to you too, dear.” Aziraphale said. Crowley poked his head out of his and Aziraphales bedroom *, only wearing his thin long-sleeved shirt and black jeans.

* Despite being ethereal beings, both the angel and demon liked to sleep. Crowley more than Aziraphale (he said he was practicing ‘sloth’). Aziraphale had only taken up the habit when Adam had came around.

“Mornin’ Adam.” The demon said. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah.” He replied. “I dreamed I was being chased by bananas with, like, way too detailed face.”

Crowley snorted. “They sound like fun people.”

Adam smiled, and the demon smiled back before disappearing back into his room to finish getting dressed. Aziraphale and Adam then headed down stairs together, with the angel leaving to take his normal place at the kitchen table to start reading as Adam headed towards the fridge to get breakfast.

He chose cereal, and was just pouring the milk onto the food when Crowley entered, now fully cladded in his normal outfit. He sat down across from his husband at the table as Adam finished preparing his meal, grabbed a spoon, and sat down at the table as well to eat.

However, after a few moments of silence filled only with the sound of Adam chewing — still groggy, and not in the mood for in depth conversation, Aziraphale flipping the pages of his book and the occasional tapping of Crowleys nails on his phone, there was another sound of ... scratching.

All three looked up. Confused, Adam leaned over * on his chair to see the door leading to the backyard, where the sound was coming from. It started again, seeping through the cracks, followed by a brief whine that seemed like it belonged to an animal.

* So much so he nearly tumbled off onto the floor.

“Is that the dog?” Crowley questioned, throwing glances to the other two beings at the table.

Adam nodded, accidentally drowning some cereal with his spoon. “Yeah, I think so. He was out there all night.”

“Should we let him in?” Aziraphale asked, looking between Crowley and Adam. It was up to those two — it  _was_ Adams dog, and Crowley hadn’t met it yet, so who knew how it would react to another demonic presence.

Crowley paused before answering, then stated. “I’m fine with it.”

Adam twisted his mouth in thought and pushed at his cereal with his spoon, letting the pieces float back up to the top. “Alright.”

Aziraphale nodded, then stood up and headed towards the back door. From where he sat at the table, Adam couldn’t see his dad open the door, but he heard the signature squeak as it opened and the curious bark of a dog from outside.

“You can come in now, it’s alright.” Aziraphale said. “I think he wants you.”

There was happy panting, the sound of long nails on hardwood floor, and then Dog came rushing into the kitchen. Adam watched as it sniffed the air curiously, as if trying to locate a bad smell, but when its eyes fell on his pops it growled, eyes flashing red and teeth bared like a wild animal.

His pops, who wasn’t the only one with fangs, hissed back. His serpentine eyes glowed.

“Hey!” Adam shouted, dropping his spoon to be lost in his bowl. Dog turned to him, while Crowley continued to glare at the smaller demon. “Be nice. That’s my pops, you have to be good for him.” And, just to make sure it remembered what he told it last night, he pointed to Aziraphale, who had returned to kitchen. “And that’s my dad. They’re my parents. You can’t hurt them, or threaten them, or do anything bad to them, got it?”

Instantly, the Hellhound stopped growling and sat down, whining and avoiding his gaze. He could also imagine it nodded a little in cowardice. Crowley barked out a laugh through his still-pointy teeth.

“Mighty Hellhound indeed.” He muttered. Adam managed to smile a bit.

“Yes, well.” Aziraphales face twisted as he looked down at the dog, thinking. “It does listen to Adam, and he wanted a small dog.”

Adam nodded and went to fish his spoon out of his cereal. The family was content to let Dog sit in the kitchen, better than being outside, but a few minutes later, as Adam went to put his dishes in the sink, he could feel sad eyes on the back of his head.

He turned to Dog, who watched him with a tilted head. He sighed. “Can I let it up now?”

“Of course.” Aziraphale said. “You know, if you play with your friends later, maybe you should bring it along. I’m sure they’d like to meet it.”

Adam turned to stare at the dog — Hellhound, and frowned. “What if it hurts them?”

“It’s your choice, dear.” Aziraphale said. “But I’m sure if your ordered it to play nice you’ll be fine.”

He thought about what he had told Dog about his parents, the nodded. His friends all wanted to see his dog, after all, so as long as he was strict about what it could do, they all should be fine. “Alright, that sounds good. Come on, Dog, I’ll show you my room.”

It physically lit up at the suggestion and jumped up to follow Adam upstairs, making excited yipping noises. With both the boy and animal gone, Crowley turned to Aziraphale, who started running the sink to do the dishes.

“Angel, is it a good idea to let him bring it along?” He said. While the demon hadn’t had any personal experiences with Hellhounds, they had ‘Hell’ in the name. “It’s not a normal dog, remember?”

“Yes, darling.” Aziraphale replied. “But one, people will get suspicious if we keep a dog in our backyard but never bring it out, and two, maybe if we introduce it to more normal scenarios, it could ... expel the demonic energy.”

Crowley raised any eyebrow at his husband over his glasses. “I’m not sure that’s how it works *, angel.”

* If it did, Crowley wouldn’t be a demon anymore, after a lifetime of ‘normal’ situations like eating at restaurants, driving through towns, and, well, living the domestic family life.

“My other point still stands.” He replied. Crowley frowned, knowing Aziraphale had won the argument, and besides, it was Adams choice, then sighed and got up to help dry the dishes.

A few minutes later, Adam returned, fully dressed with his teeth brushed. By the time he did, the two beings were finished and were now back in the living room, the angel reading and the demon on his phone, as they always were in the morning. Adam had brought down the lego set he had got and started yesterday, and began working on it on the coffee table.

Dog followed him down the stairs, happy to follow, but seemed confused when the entire family sat down and began doing their own things again. Adam, noticing the Hellhounds confused stare, smiled awkwardly and patted the spot next to him on the floor.

“It’s alright, you can come sit.” He told it. Dog panted happily and did so.

The family then sat quietly — Aziraphale reading, Adam building his lego while occasionally reaching over to pat Dog, and Crowley on his phone, starting fights on anonymous messages boards — for a while, just enjoying the others presences, until Aziraphale sighed and stood up, placing his book aside on the table.

“Well, my dears, I’d best be heading off.” Aziraphale said, smoothing out the lapels on his jacket. “Since ... the end is coming, I should head to the bookshop in case head office decides to send a check-up team.”

“I can drop you off, if you’d like.” Crowley said. It wasn’t a long drive to Soho, barley half-an-hour with the way Crowley drove. *

* At least when Adam wasn’t in the car. Once, when the boy was younger, Crowley had sped through traffic and nearly whammed into a street lamp. Aziraphale had throughly scolded the demon and now he only drove like that when Adam  wasn’t in the car. Or, well, when Aziraphale wasn’t either and it was just him and Adam.

The angel smiled. “That would be lovely, darling. But Adam,” The boy looked up from his lego at the sound of his name, as if he hadn’t been listening to the conversation. “are you okay being alone for a little bit?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Adam said. He wanted to say something along the lines of ‘you leave me home alone all the time, and nothing has ever happened before’, but he knew his comment wouldn’t be appreciated in the wake of all that was happening. “You can go.”

“Only if you’re okay with it.” Aziraphale said. Adam nodded once again, then Crowley and Aziraphale glanced at eachother, and nodded as well. “Well, alright, then.”

His parents collected their things *, moving around the house as Adam continued on with his building. He could hear their half-hearted arguing over where Aziraphale at stashed away their outdoor clothing, making him smile slightly, before they finally found everything and made their way to the front door again.

* Coats, keys (despite knowing that both the Bentley and the bookshop didn’t really need keys), and shoes.

“Just text if anything happens.” Crowley said as he passed, briefly pausing to ruffle Adams hair before moving on. 

“I will.” He replied when Aziraphale walked by as well. The angel, however, leaned down to plant a kiss on the side of Adams forehead, making him roll his eyes but not swat him off, before joining Crowley by the door, but the demon had already opened it. He smiled at Adam when he looked at him.

“Bye, dear.” The angel said, waving goodbye. “We love you.”

“Love you guys too. Bye.” Adam waved back. 

The couple headed outside and got in the Bentley, and Adam watched his pops pull out of the driveway way too quickly, most likely being scolded by Aziraphale. Adam waited until he couldn’t see or hear the car before turning back to his lego.

However, Dog, bored, sat up and shifted closer to his owner. Adam glanced at him, more focused on his building, when he felt a small, warm body press up against his side, and looked down to see the animal had rested its head on his thigh, and was watching him expectingly.

He chuckled, but rubbed it affectionally on the head. If it was a cat, it would have purred, but since it was a Dog is just lolled its tongue out and slobbered on his pant leg.

“Ew, gross.” He said. However, Dog didn’t seem to hear or care, too caught up in the bliss of being petted to worry about its owners pants.

It was completely normal dog behaviour, Adam realized with a start, not like a vicious Hellhound. He didn’t really know how Hell worked — did Dog have a Hellhound siblings wandering the corridors beside the demons? — or even if Dog had had an owner before him. Did he ever get petted?

Before Adam could wonder more about the treatment of his dog, there was a harsh knocking at the door. He jumped, dropping the lego brick in his hand. Dog whined when it was thrown off his lap and shook its head, snorting slightly.

“Adam, it’s us!” Pepper yelled through the door, rapping on it again.

“Come in, its unlocked!” He yelled back, standing up. The front door clicked opened, and then all three of his friends clambered into the room. “Hey.”

“Hey. Did you get a dog?” Was the first thing out of Peppers mouth.

Oh, yeah. He hadn’t seen his friends since yesterday, when he ran out on them at the woods. Luckily, they hadn’t seemed to want to ask about it, too caught up in what he could have gotten for his birthday. “Yeah, this is,” he gestured down to the animal, which had sat up at the entrance of his friends. “Dog.”

Brian cooed as if it was a tiny baby, Wensleydales eyes widened and Pepper smiled down at the animal. It was Brian who spoke up first. “Can we pet him?”

He frowned, thinking of how Dog had reacted to his parents. Sure, they were ethereal beings and Dog was a Hellhound, but you could never be sure. “One second.”

He crouched down so he was eye-level with his pet, aware of his friends gazes on his back, and looked straight at it so it wouldn’t move. “Be nice to my friends. Don’t bark at them, don’t growl, be a good boy.”

Dog wagged its tail in understanding. With a confirmation head nod, Ada, straightened and turned towards his friends again, who all watched on in various states of confusion. “Sorry, he gets a bit rough. You can pet him now.”

His friends cheered and immediately rushed over to start petting the dog up and down. Confused under the attention at first, Dog eventually melted and decided that ‘ yes, this is nice’  and became very content with all the pets and compliments rained down on him.

Adam only watched his friends and pet take a liking to eachother, and smiled.

***

Anathema Device was a witch.

She didn’t try to hide that fact. She walked around with pendulums and other objects hidden safely in her pockets, told anyone who asked (what we they going to do? Burn her at the stake?), and almost never left her home without a very special book somewhere on her person.

The book in question was titled ‘ _The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch_ ’. Agnes Nutter had been ‘the last true witch of England’ back in the times where they actually  _ did _ burn women at the stake if they were suspected of witchcraft. She had the power to see the future in clear detail, and wrote prophecies surrounding it, all collected in her book which had been passed through her family for generations after her ... explosive demise, to put it lightly.

Agnes Nutter was also Anathemas Devices great ancestor.

Anathema had studied the book ever since she was a little girl, trying to make sense of the prophecies, just like her parents and grandparents and great-grandparents before her. There was a very special prophecy in particular, however, that made Anathema just a little bit different from everyone else in her family.

“ _Four shall ride and three shall ride the sky as two, and one shall ride in flames; and there shall be no stopping them: not fish, nor rain, neither devil or angel. And you shall be there also, Anathema_.”  *

* Translated from old language.

There were more prophecies like that — and they all told the end of the world, the Antichrist rising to power, the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse being summoned, Heaven and Hell going to war — and, apparently, Anathema was suppose to ‘be there also’. She didn’t know why, of course, but she was sure her part would be revealed eventually.

It was why, following orders of the book, she flew overseas from her home in America and found herself in Tadfield, England, hunting down the Antichrist.

She sighed, looking around at the small cottage she was renting — Jasmine Cottage, somewhere between the middle and the outskirts of the village. It was small and smelled like the flower it got its name from. It was nothing like what she was use too *. The owner of the cottage was a elderly woman named Mrs. Fender, who said she could ‘stay as long as she wanted’ as long as she remembered to water the plants.

* Her family had managed to decipher a prophecy talking about the rise of Apple, and so they had bought major stocks in the company while it was still growing. Because of that, her family was ... wealthy, the only way to describe it, meaning she had grown up in one of the most stylish, modern houses you could find.

Anathema hadn’t brought much with her overseas, just a small suitcase, so it had taken less then an hour to spread her things out. She had then inspected the cottage — looking in the cupboards to see what utensils and dishes she had, checking the showers and taps, normal things you look for when you’re renting a place. 

However, the cottage was small, so that didn’t take long, either. She sighed again, knowing she was procrastinating on heading out. She needed to go search Tadfield for the Antichrist and his Hellhound. Of course, she had no idea what she would do if —  when — she found him. He was only suppose to be eleven years old, maybe she would be able to convince him to stop the ending of the Earth.

Knowing she she put it off long enough, she grabbed Agnus Nutters book off the table, her pendulum and a few more magical objects, and left the house. She paused momentarily in the front garden, taking in the aesthetic of the lush plants and cobblestone path that lead up to her front door. 

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Despite the calm appearance, the destroyer of worlds was hiding somewhere in this village. Doing a quick check over to make sure she had everything, she set off towards the village centre to start searching.

***

Aziraphale and Crowley spent the majority of the ride to Soho in silence, thinking about their own private things, and the only time they spoke was when Aziraphale told Crowley to watch the road and the demon shot back that he was watching it just fine, everyone else was just in the way.

It wasn’t until familiar buildings began to flash outside the window did Aziraphale speak up, hands wringing nervously around his front.

“Crowley.” He said as a way of starting conversation. The demon glanced at him from the corner of his eyes.

“Yes, angel?” He asked.

Aziraphale sighed. “Have you ... felt anything? From Adam?”

He shook his head, hands gripping the steering wheel a little bit too tight. “No. His - his shielding, I think, works on us too.”

“Oh.” The angel mumbled. “Yes, that seems likely. I just - I suppose it is a good thing. If we can’t sense anything, even after being around him for so long, then at least we know no one else will be able too.”

Despite how reassuring his words were, Crowley could still hear traces of nervousness in his husbands tone. “It’ll be fine, angel. It’s what we’ve been planning for, yeah? We have a ... general idea of what will happen, and we can help him through it. We just need to dodge the other stuff.”

Aziraphale nodded, knowing the ‘other stuff’ could range from surprise visits from head office to angels and demons finding out what was going on and kidnapping them off the street. “Of course. Still hard not to worry, though.”

“Obviously.” Crowley said. Then, he reached over to grab one of Aziraphales hands, which still rest anxiously on his belly, and squeezed it tight. “It’ll turn out alright.”

He was saying it too Aziraphale, but also too himself, too. The angel, sensing his partners own emotions, squeezed his hand back.

They pulled up outside the bookshop —  _ A. Z. Fell & Co. _ — and Aziraphale sighed. The bookshop had been opened for decades, and was his primary place of residence up until eleven years ago *, and still was according to Heavens official records. It looked antique like the books it held inside, and the angel had developed a fondness of it and everything it held.

* And, for the first few months of his life, Adams as well. And Crowley, well, he spent so much time there before they moved to Tadfield he particularly lived there.

“I can pick you up after the day is over, too.” Crowley said after a moment. He turned to look at him, pulled from his daze. The demon was watching him behind his dark glasses, a soft expression on his face. “Maybe I’ll bring Adam along. We can go to dinner.”

Aziraphales own face melted into an equally soft expression. “Sounds lovely, darling.” He complimented with a kiss on the cheek to accent his point. The tips of the demons ears got red at that, and he managed to wrangle his growing smile in a half-hearted frown. “I’ll see you later, then.”

Crowley angled his head so that Aziraphale could lean over and reach his lips in a chaste goodbye kiss, before the angel got out of the car with a smile and wave. The demon, lips tingly from the kiss, smiled as well as he watched the angel grab his keys and unlocked the shop door, then shifted the car into gear. 

As Crowley pulled out onto the road again, his phone chimed from its place in his pocket. One-handed, he grabbed it * and checked the notification. It was a text from Adam, saying he was going out with his friends and ‘not to worry if you got home and I wasn’t there’. It made him chuckle and smile before slipping it back in his pocket.

* If Aziraphale was in the car, he would scold Crowley for being on his phone while driving,  again . His respond was usually ‘it’s fine, angel’ while discreetly hitting the gas petal.

Meanwhile, back at the bookshop, Aziraphale fumbled slightly as he unlocked the front door and stepped inside. The smell of old books, dust and something distinctly moldy * filled his senses as he shuffled inside, turning the sign on the door to ‘open’ as he went.

* A smell perfectly designed to slightly shock customers as they came in, but not unpleasant enough that people who he actually  wanted in the bookshop were deterred from coming inside.

He started to busy himself around the shop, fiddling with stacks of books and worn shelves, trying to deplete his nerves. Almost as an afterthought, he did a through scan of the entire place to make sure Adam and Crowley hadn’t left any physical traces anywhere — a jacket, extra pair of sunglasses, whatever particular toy Adam had decided to bring up — and was content to find nothing. His family didn’t often leave stuff around the bookshop anyways, just in case they got a surprise visit.

Feeling a bit more calm, Aziraphale scoured the shop for something to read. However, it was when he went to grab a book on a particularly high shelf did he realized he had forgotten something important.

He was still wearing his wedding ring.

Overcome with fondness, he clutched his hand to his chest and pushed the band around his finger idly. It was a just a simple gold band, with a small black diamond in the middle *. He wore it all the time, attached to emotion that it carried, but sighed. 

* Crowley had a matching one, with a small white diamond. It was a bit ‘on the nose’, as they say, but Aziraphale found he didn’t really care. And, as Crowley was one who picked them out, he knew he didn’t, either.

Of course, he always had to take it off when he got visits from archangels. He didn’t want them —  couldn’t have them — noticing the ring and asking about it. The other angels might not come down to Earth very often, but they did know the sentiment and history that came about a ring on the  _ ringfinger _ of your left hand.

And so, he sighed again, then gently removed the ring and put it in his pocket. He allowed himself a moment to stand there, alone, in the silence, but finally his finger twitched and he started shelving again.

“Hey, sorry, do you ... work here?” 

He snapped up to see a young adult woman, mid 20s if he had to guess, watching him with her mouth pinched in a short line. Her black hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and she had a backpack strung across her shoulders. Student, then. He smiled and slightly cheered internally. 

He didn’t like parting with his books — some were originals, and he had spent lots of time and effort in making sure they were in pristine condition — but students often only needed to do some research and didn’t want or need to buy the book. Half the time, they took the book, curled up in one of the chairs in the corner, then left after half-an-hour when they found the select piece of information they were looking for.

“Yes, I’m the owner here.” He told the girl. “Do you need help, dear?”

Time passed quickly after that. He got the girl set up with the book she was looking for, then took his place behind the counter with his own novel to read. More people entered the bookshop, mostly browsing, but didn’t come near him asking for help, or even to buy. Another reason he liked reading.

However, the angel was having trouble focusing on his current material. The small, nearly printed lines started to blur together and he found himself rereading the same paragraph over and over again as his brain couldn’t seem to comprehend the words. Eventually, he sighed, knowing why it was impossible to focus.

Archangel visits always made him nervous. Especially since Armageddon was coming, Heaven would be starting to prepare themselves for battle, same with Hell. No doubt, he would be dragged in to fight *, and Hell would most likely take their field agent back soon, too. He knew how much Crowley hated that place and shuddered at the thought of the demon going back there.

* He still didn’t have his flaming sword, hadn’t since the day he gave it to the first two humans in Eden.

And where did that leave Adam? Alone, with his powers, in the end of the world. Yes, that could  definitely not happen. The only silver lining was that, if he was brave and sneaky enough, he could probably glean some information about Heavens status on the Antichrist. He didn’t know if  they knew that Dowling boy wasn’t the actually ‘destroyer of worlds’, or if they were suspicion on the Antichrists true whereabouts.

Aziraphale had been out of the loop in Heaven for a long, long while. In the beginning, when he was first stationed in Earth, he got regular checkups and visits. However, the visits began to wane as Heaven got busier and busier, and now, he barley saw any angels other than the archangels. Not to say he  wished for head office to watch him more. In fact, in was a very good thing, since it meant it was ... easier to hide aspects of his life he didn’t want Heaven to find out about.

It just meant he didn’t exactly know what was going on. The only warning he got of Adam being born was from a cryptic conversation with Gabriel. He probably would have never known about the coming apocalypse if Crowley hadn’t told him, and, subsequently, brought the Antichrist to his shop.

It was just then the bell to the bookshop chimed, startling him from his thoughts, and two ethereal beings stepped in.

Aziraphale could sense their presence, obviously, like a bad aftertaste of some particularly dry food. However, even without his sixth sense, the two stood out like a sore thumb among the casually dressed humans, old leather books, and the overall comfortable atmosphere of the bookshop. 

The first being, the archangel Gabriel *, wore a fresh grey suit, shiny shoes, and while his normal violet eyes were tuned down to a reasonable blue-purple, there was still something  off about him. The second being was the archangel Sandalphon, who was dressed in beige, with a receding hairline found on most middle-aged human men, and teeth a bit to out-of-place to be perfectly human.

* Crowley had a large distaste for any angels that weren’t Aziraphale,  especially Gabriel and the other archangels, and called them ‘gigantic pricks’. Aziraphale had also always thought Gabriel as a prick, too, but fear of rebellion and falling never made him actually admit it out loud and not just in the recess of his mind.

“Can I help you?” He asked as a polite greeting, setting his book down.

Gabriel looked around, then grabbed a random book off the stack. Aziraphale felt his heart jump when he saw how the archangel carelessly held it. “I would like to purchase one of your material objects.”

“Books.” Sandalphon corrected in his squeaky voice.

“Books.” Gabriel nodded. “Let us discuss my purchase in a private place, because I am buying, uh ...” He trailed off. If he wasn’t so nervous, Aziraphale would have been delighted watching his boss squirm.

“Pornography?” Sandalphon said again.

“Pornography.” Gabriel confirmed.

He gave them a blank stare. The other humans around gave the two archangels weird looks, and Aziraphale stopped himself from grimacing, instead plastering a fake smile on his face. Then, he gestured towards the back room of the shop. “Gabriel, come into my back room.”

“We humans are extremely easily embarrassed.” Gabriel said quite loudly, so everyone who hadn’t heard now knew exactly what was going on. “We must buy our pornography secretively.”

Biting back an annoyed sigh, Aziraphale stepped side so the two archangels could 

get inside the back room. He followed after a moment, hands shaking slightly.

“Human beings are so simple.” Gabriel said smugly once they were alone, as if he had pulled a great con and not just insisted on buying ‘pornography’. Aziraphale was pretty sure he didn’t even know what it really was. “And so easily fooled.”

“Yes. Ahem, good job.” Aziraphale said. He knew at least all the humans in the front were confused and, as Adam would have put it, ‘weirded out’ by the archangels. “You - you fooled them all.”

“You remember Sandalphon?” Gabriel dropped the book in his hands on a random surface, nearly sending another pile of books tumbling off to the floor. Aziraphale nervously wrung his hands when the beige archangel turned to flash him a smile filled with sharper teeth then usual.

“Uh ... Sodom and Gomorrah.” He said. “You were doing a lot of smiting and turning people into salt. Hard to forget.”

He hoped that came off as a compliment. However, to his horror, Sandalphon sniffed the air as if he were a cat, then said in a bored if a bit suspicious voice. “Something smells ... evil.”

His eyes widened, by the two archangels didn’t seem to notice. Crowley hadn’t been in the bookshop for a few days, but he guessed that after years of spending the night and lounging around the furniture tended to leave a bit of a mark. “Oh, that'll be the Jeffrey Archer books, I'm afraid.”

“Well, we just wanted to stop by and check on the status of the Antichrist.” Gabriel said. The words sent a spike of fear through his chest, and he pretended to be invested in smoothing out his coat to hide his rapidly beating heart.

“Why? What's - is everything okay?” He asked, hopefully his voice sounded as smooth as he hoped. 

“Nothing's wrong. Everything's going perfectly.” Gabriel replied. “There's a lot happening, all good.”

“All good?” He asked, not able to hide the small amount of disbelief in his voice. The Earth was going to end, nothing about it was ‘good.’ 

“Well, all going according to the Divine Plan.” The archangel replied, waving his hand around as if he was swatting a fly from the air. “The Hellhound has been set loose, and now the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are being summoned. Death, Pollution, Famine, War.”

The Four Horsemen *, created from the dark mind of humanity. He didn’t know which order they would arrive, but, judging on the timing of Dogs naming, the first one would be called to action soon. “Right. Uh, who exactly summons them?”

* Over the course of history, Aziraphale — and Crowley — had run into War, Famine, Pollution (and Pestilence, before he retired) multiple times, always causing trouble. The angel always tried to chase the beings off, but they always returned with more ideas and problems. 

Gabriel frowned. “Not my department. I believe we outsource that sort of thing.”

“About time, that's what I say.” Sandalphon, who had been watching Aziraphale silently by the doorway,  blocking it, piped up. “You can't have a  _ war _ without  _ War _ .”

Gabriel paused, then gave a surprise, short laugh. He pointed at the other archangel, grinning in a way that was a little too bright. “Sandalphon, that is very good. You can't have a  _ war _ without  _ War _ . I might use that.” Gabriel turned to Aziraphale again, who jumped slightly when pinned with his gaze. “Anyway ... no problems? How was the Hellhound?”

“I - I didn't stick around to see.” He replied. 

However, Gabriel didn’t seem to listen to the answer. The archangel leaned back to shout through the doorway to the rest of the shop. “Thank you for my pornography!” before leaning back in and grinning his too-bright grin again, ever proud of himself for fooling the humans.

"You can't have a  _ war _ without  _ War _ ." Gabriel chuckled, more to himself then anything. “Clever.”

“Yes, uh, very clever.” Aziraphale added, sending a nervous smile towards Sandalphon. “Well, if that’s all, I best be getting back to the shop. Humans get suspicious if you spend too long back here.”

“Oh yes. Of course.” Gabriel said in a tone that meant he was trying to appear he understood. “We’ll be back in a few days, just to check in before the big day. So, uh, you should ...” The archangel looked around the bookshop. “Maybe get this all sorted.”

Aziraphale nodded, felt his stomach sink at the prospects of more visits. However, it  had been what he expected. “Yes, of course.”

“Keep an eye on the Antichrist. We’ll see you later.” Gabriel added. Sandalphon, sensing the meeting was over, lead the way out of the back room and into the main part of the bookshop. Aziraphale trailed awkwardly behind the two archangels, clutching his hands together.

“See you ... later.” He said. However, the two archangels had already left the store, leaving him standing alone in the aside. 

He sighed, but was still relieved. That had gone as well as he could have hoped. Gabriel was still his ... unlovable self, and while he hadn’t really expected Sandalphon to come as well, he felt he had handled it all rather calmly. At least he knew now they didn’t suspect anything with the Antichrist.

However, he heard footsteps behind him and turned, half-expecting to see one of the archangels back for some reason or another, but it was just one of the customers.

“Sorry, uh, hi, again.” It was the student from earlier. Now, she was awkwardly holding out the book she borrowed towards him. “I’m finished. Thank you for letting me borrow it.”

“It was no trouble at all.” He said in a hopefully friendly tone. He didn’t want his feelings with the archangels to drip over to his other conversations. 

The student left the shop and he put the book back. Once he was certain the archangels were gone, he retrieved his ring from his pocket and slipped it back on his finger. For a moment, he just stared at his hand, watching the metal shine in the light, then sighed and looked up around the shop.

Most of the humans had left after Gabriels ‘pornography’ comment, leaving it almost completely empty save for some people on the far side where the bookshelves blocked the noise, and he would have felt embarrassed if his stomach wasn’t in so many knots. The few remaining seemed pretty absorbed with what they were doing, so he shuffled to the backroom, grabbed the phone attached to the wall, and dialled Crowleys number.

***

Adam narrowed his eyes in concentration, acutely aware of the tree branch he was sitting on, and gave one, final hard tug at the rope currently looped around the branch. Satisfied, he leaned back to make sure it was secure, then had a mini heart attack when he nearly fell off the branch.

“There.” He said. “All done.”

Pepper reached over and pulled on it, hard. The tree branch shook and he yelped, grabbing onto the bark to hold on, but the rope didn’t budge.

“Oh, sorry.” Pepper said when she realized she had almost sent him tumbling to the ground.

He shrugged. “It’s fine. Can someone help me down?”

Brian stretched his arms out so they were in his general proximity. Adam swung his legs over the branch so he sat on it like a chair, then grabbed his friends hands to help bracket himself as he jumped down to the ground. The impact made his feet hurt, but he didn’t stumble. Dog barked in encouragement.

“Now we can play British Inquisition.” He announced. His friends all nodded in agreement. 

The thing Adam had just climbed a tree to set up was an old tire swing. The tire had been rolled over through the forest from Wensleydale house (his dad was a mechanic and let them borrow one of his extras with promises to return it when they were done) and Brian had taken the rope from his parents garage. Then they had all wrapped the rope around the tire, and Adam offered to scale the tree and tie it on one of the strong base branches.

“I stole a broom from my mum.” Pepper said. “I had to strap it to my back to bike here with it.”

“Oh, I should have done that.” Adam said. “Expect I don’t know where our broom is.”

“How do you not know where your broom is?” Wensleydale asked. “Don’t you clean?”

“Well, yeah, obviously *.” He said. “I just usually dust my room and stuff.”

* His parents cleaned their home in Tadfield, didn’t want to arise any suspicion by wasting miracles, but the bookshop alway had a fine layer of dust over everything to drive away customers, and pops flat was barley used and had little to no furniture for dirt to actually accumulate on.

Pepper ran to get her broom from her bike, also saying something about a hat she made, while Brian and Wensleydale started arguing over who got to be a what first. However, Adam couldn’t be bothered to get in the middle of it and instead turned to Dog, who sat by the base of the tree, watching them.

While yesterday had been hectic and full of emotion, today Adam felt ... strangely calm. He had been with his friends ever since lunch, and they had all grabbed their allowance to get icecream after. He could still taste the remains on his tongue and absently licked his lips to check if any was still left hiding. 

It lulled him into a sense of security, which was something he desperately needed.

“Okay.” Pepper said, holding out a broom and hat stolen from a cheap Halloween costume. “Who’s gonna be the witch we torture?”

He wondered what his parents would say, if they saw him planning on fake torturing his friend, but Wensleydale already piped up. “Can I be it?”

“You want to be tortured?” Brian asked in disbelief.

“No, I just want to be the first one on the swing.” Wensleydale replied nonchalantly. Pepper shrugged and handed him the hat and broom. He took both and started to clamber on the swing, awkwardly one handed.

“What will the rest of us be?” Brian asked.

“There’s loads of jobs left.” Adam replied. “Head torturer, and chief inquisitor ...”

“I call torturer!” Brian exclaimed.

Pepper stepped forward. “And I’ll be chief inquisitor, but what does that leave you, Adam?”

“I’ll watch over you guys.” He said. He wasn’t in the mood for playing, and glanced down at Dog. “Make sure you torture right.”

Pepper and Brian shrugged, and started to collect sticks to use for their torture. Adam knelt down next to Dog and patted it on the head. “Okay boy, can you go find some sticks?”

Dog barked * before speeding off into the surrounding woods. Adam stood up and watched it zip around through the trees. Ever since the one incident that morning with his pops, Dog acted normal. No glowing eyes or threatening barks. Adam was relieved, knowing there wouldn’t be any good explanation he could give if Dog went all Hellhound-y in front of his friends.

* If animals could talk, it would have said ‘yes I can, obviously’.

“He really listens to you.” Wensleydale commented from his place in the swing, hat perched precariously on his head. 

“Yeah, he does.” Was all he replied with. 

He expected his friend to ask something else about Dog, but luckily, the witch hat fell from Wensleydales head when he leaned over to push himself off the tree to start spinning, and by the time Adam had helped him get it back on Pepper, Brian and Dog had returned with arms, and, in Dogs case, mouth, full of sticks.

“Good job!” He told Dog, who wagged its tail at encouragement. Then, to his friends. “We can probably start now.”

They did start playing, Pepper and Brian trying to torture Wensleydale into admitting he was a witch. It took a few tries before Wensleydale got that he was suppose to resist the torture, but after that the game continued on well enough. He even started to ‘fight back’ with the broom, smacking his torturers in the face with the bristles.

Adam, and Dog, circled the tree and watched over his friends, occasionally stopping arguments from breaking out and mostly making sure the tire swing didn’t come down.

However, everyone was startled when they heard the crunch of leaves under hard footsteps. They all turned towards the sound, expecting a rabbit or bird, both common in the woods, but were surprised when they saw a woman standing there instead. An  adult .

“Uh.” Brian muttered, still posed to hit Wensleydale on the knee. Wensleydale fumbled with the broom and dropped it, while Pepper only frowned.

The woman had wavy hair, half caught in a bun in the back of her head and the rest cascading down her back, thin-rimmed round glasses, and a large blue-and-purple coat that reached her ankles. It looked vaguely goth and reminded him of something his pops would wear if he happened to presenting as female and decided to wear something other than black and red.

She held an object Adam briefly remembered was a pendulum — his dad had a very old fashioned one lying around the bookshop, a gift from someone in the past — which she hastily stuffed in her pocket. She also carried a book, but Adam couldn’t make out the title.

She looked a witch, which was quite a coincidence giving what they were playing.

“Oh. Hello.” He said. “Can we ... help you?”

The woman looked startled to be addressed, then said, “No, sorry. I was just passing through and overheard you guys playing.”

“Hey, aren’t you the woman that moved into Jasmine Cottage?” Pepper piped up, crossing her arms, still holding her stick like a torture weapon.

“Yes, I’m renting it.” The woman answered. 

“Oh, I thought Mrs. Fender still lived there.” Brian said. “Did she move out?”

“Yeah, I remember when she did.” Adam replied, thinking back a few months. “She got a house by the beach. When she left she invited my dads over for tea.”

“That was awhile ago.” Wensleydale said. “I remember it too, she was really nice. She brought over cakes and stuff. My parents really liked her.”

“Hey, be quiet!” Brian ordered, poking Wensleydale. “You’re being tortured.”

“Tortured?!” The woman suddenly exclaimed, making them all turn to her again. Adam almost had forgotten she was there. She seemed quite young, in between a teenager and a parent. And she had a slightly different accent then the rest of them.

“Yeah, we’re playing the British Inquisition.” Adam answered. “Pepper is chief inquisitor, Brian is head torturer, and Wensleydale is the witch. We’re really just poking him with sticks, though.”

“It’s still quite painful!” The tortured faux-witch in question shouted. 

Brian jabbed him quite harshly with the stick. “Quiet!” 

“Hey, that hurt!”

“Guys, be careful.” Adam told them. “We’ll get in trouble if someone gets hurt *.”

* Unconsciously, the bruise that started to form on Wensleydales arm began to heal and fade out. Dog, sensing the magic in the air, barked but was ignored under the childrens voices.

“Fine.” Brian huffed, but let his stick hang limply at his side. “But I didn’t poke that hard.”

Wensleydale glared at him. “Yes you did!”

“Guys, we’re getting off topic.” Pepper said, stopping the two boys arguing. “We have to keep torturing Wensleydale.”

“I don’t want to be tortured anymore if it’s gonna hurt.” Wensleydale said, rubbing his sore arm.

Pepper frowned and crossed her arms. “Fine, then we’re not pushing the swing anymore.”

The three started bickering again, and Adam was about to interject when the woman turned to him. “Hey, kid.” 

He tilted his head at her, making a few strand curls flop around. “Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” Her mouth was pinched in a strange line, and she was looking at him with narrowed eyes, as if she was trying to find a piece of dirt on his face. 

He gulped under the scrutiny and replied. “Sure.”

“Has there been any ... strange things happening? Possibly things to do with great beasts, or other things like that?” She asked, and suddenly his heart found a nice new home a thousand klicks away.

She  was witch, then. And she was looking for him. To be fair, though, she wasn’t a very good one if he was standing right in front of her. Well, his parents had told him he had a force field around him that stopped angels and demons and other ethereal beings sensing his presence. Maybe it worked on witches, too. “What do you mean?”

“I mean ...” She trailed off, then gestured around her. “Anything that could be consider abnormal. Or magical.”

“This is Tadfield.” He replied, hopefully inconspicuously. “Nothing strange ever happens here. It’s just perfectly normal. Why?”

“Oh. I’m ... looking for something.” She said vaguely. Adam decided not to push his luck and let the subject drop.

“I’m Adam, by the way.” He said politely. “Adam C. Fell.”

She smiled at him, and extended her hand out to shake. “I’m Anathema Device.”

Knowing it was rude to refuse a handshake, even from a witch, Adam took it and gripped a little bit too tightly in his nerves. Her name was odd *, but did sound like a name a witch would have. “Nice to meet you.”

* He was use to odd names, however. His dads name had ten letters in it, his pops use to be named after a verb, and two of his best friends didn’t even go by their first names. 

“Nice to meet you too.” She replied. 

“Hey, Adam, do you want a turn?” Wensleydale asked, still clutching the tire swing tight.

“Why does he get a turn before me?” Brian asked, frowning.

“Because you nearly knocked my glasses off!”

“No thanks, Wensleydale, I’m fine.” He said, letting go of Anathemas hand to patter over to them. “But you should probably give Brian a turn now.”

“I still want to be Chief Inquisitor.” Pepper added. 

He shrugged. “Alright.” Then, he turned around to check if the actual witch was still where he left her. She was, and watching them behind her thin-rimmed glasses. 

“Is there anything else you need help with ...?” He asked, hoping he wasn’t too obvious. Being around her was setting off weird vibes in his head, and he would much rather get back to playing with his friends.

“Or do you want to play British Inquisition with us?” Pepper asked. “You’re clothes look witchy, so you’ll fit right in.”

“Pepper!” Wensleydale gasped. “That’s rude.”

“No, it’s fine.” Anathema said with an entertained smile. “I am an actually witch.” Before anyone could comment on  that , she continued. “But I do have to decline your offer, I have to keep looking. But you kids are hilarious *.”

* When she met ‘hilarious’, she actually meant ‘odd and a little bit horrifying’, but that’s just the way kids are, sometimes.

“Alright.” Pepper said. She couldn’t hide the disappointment in her voice. Adam knew Pepper well enough she would, if given the chance, would probably become a witch and start hexing anyone who displeased her. “Bye, then.”

“Goodbye, Miss Anathema.” Adam added, waving.

“Please, just Anathema.” She replied, clutching her book tighter to her chest. “But goodbye.”

The witch was then on her way, grabbing her pendulum from her pocket and swiftly moving between the trees. Adam watched her leave until he wasn’t able to spot her blue clothing through the underbrush, then turned back to his friends — and Dog — who were squabbling again.

“Do you think she really is a witch?” Wensleydale asked just as she was out of earshot, still hanging firmly on the tire swing. Brian pushed him with a stick.

”Yeah.” Pepper said quickly. She then elaborated. “I mean, she looked like it.”

Brian stopped poking Wensleydale to give Pepper a confused look. “No she didn’t.” 

“What?” Pepper asked in disbelief. “Her clothes were totally witchy.”

”But she didn’t have a broom or hat or anything.” Brian shot back, having now forgotten his goal of torturing Wensleydale. The other boy, now still in the swing, stuck a leg out to push himself off the trunk and start spinning again.

“She had glasses.”

“Wensleydale has glasses and he’s not a witch.”

”Yes he is, we’re torturing him right now.”

The two turned back to start torturing their friend again, but before they could, Wensleydale started to extract himself from the swing, tired of being poked. “Actually, I’m done being a witch. I want to get down.”

”Oh. Who should be the witch then?” Pepper asked.

His friends began to argue again, but Adam just stared at his feet, replaying the conversation with Anathema in his head. She was looking for the Antichrist — looking for him, and Dog. At that thought, he reached down and scratched the animal behinds it’s ears. It panted happily.

What was that book she had been holding? His dad might know. And then he wondered if he should even tell his parents — they always said not to talk to people he didn’t know, but she had started the conversation, so he probably wouldn’t get in trouble. Besides, they probably should know if an actual witch was looking for him, this close to Armageddon.

“How about Adam?” Wensleydale said, making him snap up to attention and stopping Brian and Pepper from fighting over who got the swing next.

“He already said he didn’t want too.” Brian said.

“No, I’ll take a turn.” Before any of his friends could object, he walked over to the tire swing and started to fold himself inside. Dog followed him over and stretched up on his hind legs to see what its owner was doing, placing its front paws on the tire, its nail making a light scratching noise. “Just don’t hit me too hard.”

***

Aziraphale was just closing up shop when he saw the sleek black car pull up outside. He grinned to himself, made sure everything around the shop was orderly, then stepped outside just as Crowley parked the car so badly it was obvious he did it on purpose to tick people off.

“Hello, my dears.” The angel greeted as he locked the shop door behind him. Crowley, who had positioned it so the right side of the car was facing the sidewalk, rolled the window down to lean an arm out.

“Hello, angel.” The demon said. Adam rolled his window down too, poking his head out with a cheerful “Hey, dad!”

With a smile, Aziraphale slipped his keys in his pocket, and rounded the car so he could sit in the passenger seat. Crowley and Adam both leaned back into the car, rolled up their windows, and then the car pulled back into the road in a smooth move that cut off an oncoming car. 

Aziraphale sighed, and sent a small goodwill the other drivers way before asking. “How was your day, Adam?”

“Fine.” He replied. Dog had joined the family on their drive, taking the seat next to Adam. He had told it to be respectful and ‘a good boy’ in the car, and the dog was obeying, sitting calmly beside its owner with a wagging tail. Adam leaned over to scratch it behind the ears for a reward. “Me and my friends played British Inquisition in the woods today, but we focused on the more witchcrafty parts of it.”

“Oh?” Aziraphale questioned. Crowley didn’t say anything, but was listening intently. *

* Him and Adam had spent the drive up talking about gardening and if Dog would be able to help scare the plants into blooming. Crowley had been in the backyard all day, tending to his plants, and there were a few stubborn blacked-eyed susans that were refusing to grow no matter how much the demon yelled at them.

“Yeah. Pepper brought a broom and a hat, and we hung up a tire swing.” Adam said. “We invited Anathema to join us, but she declined so we —“

“Wait, who’s Anathema?” Crowley asked, not able to stop himself was interrupting.

“She’s a witch we met.” Adam answered.

“A witch?!” Aziraphale exclaimed.

“A real one?” Crowley asked.

Adam frowned. “I don’t know, maybe. She looked witchy. And said she was looking for ‘great beasts’. I think she was looking for me.”

His parents went silent in the front seat, and Adam gulped. He hadn’t wanted to worry them anymore then they already were, but he was spared from a guilty conscience by Crowley speaking up. “Well, if you see her again, try to stay away, alright? We don’t need anymore on our plate right now.”

“Okay.” Adam nodded and scratched Dog behind the ear to calm the animal, who had started to whine when Adam got worked up. “She moved into Jasmine Cottage, though, so I’ll try to stay away from that area.”

“Good idea.” Crowley praised. 

Aziraphale clasped his hands together in his lap. “Isn’t Jasmine Cottage where Mrs. Fender use to live?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Adam replied. “I liked her.”

“Yes, she was a lovely woman, wasn’t she?” Aziraphale added. “I remember now. She moved to South Downs a few months ago. She invited us over for tea when she left!”

“Yes, and the entire house smelled like jasmine.” Crowley grumbled, recalling the older woman and the cottage. “Really, it didn’t need to be that strong *.”

* Crowley was responsible for the popularity of diffusers and essential oils in the 21st century, and, like many of his temptations, it backfired on his enhanced snake senses.

The conversation carried on from there, switching from smells to cottages to beaches to vacations to a variety of other topics. Adam tuned it all out, starting to grow drowsy in the gentle lull of the car and sounds of the road. He sighed, resting his head on the back of the seat and feeling his eyes just begin to slip close as the Bentley pulled to a stop in an illegal parking space.

“We’re here.” Crowley said. Adam peaked open one eye to see they were parked outside a small restaurant with people coming in and out. From the signs, it looked like sushi.

“I thought we were going home?” Adam asked, unbuckling his seat. Not that he  wouldn’t complain about dinner, though.

“Nah, your dad had a rough day *, and yesterday wasn’t the best either, so I thought we’d try this place.” Crowley answered. “It’s new, and allows dogs. As long as they’re well-behaved, of course.”

* For Adam and Crowley, the day had been uneventful, with no supernatural happenings other than Dogs little bout that morning with Crowley. Aziraphale had been on edge ever since the archangels visit and hadn’t settled down all day.

He frowned and pulled himself up to he was in between he two front seats, staring at his dad. “Wait, what happened? Did some other angels show up?”

The angel frowned. “Yes, my dear. I can tell you about it later.” His frown turned into a comforting smile directed at his son. “But come on, let’s go have dinner. Your pops was very nice to think of this for us.”

Crowley grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I’m a demon, I’m not nice’. Aziraphale winked at him wearing a bastardly grin that was not lost on Crowley before exiting the car. Adam got out as well, ushering Dog out in front of him, and starting to chatter about the restaurant.

Crowley, after a moment of allowing himself to smile alone, got out and followed his family.

***

Adam always found car rides relaxing.

He would sit in the backseat, staring out the window watching buildings and trees and landscapes go by, while his parents talked in the front seat and the radio hummed quietly. And Adam, just like his pops, loved the Bentley in the way you always love your childhood things.

However, tonight, as the car barrelled down the thin street leading from Soho to Tadfield, it was too dark outside to see anything other than the thin outline of trees. However, beside him, Dog peered out into the darkness happily. Like its owner, it liked car rides, even if it had just discovered them that day.

Currently, his parents were talking queitly in the front seat. Aziraphale had briefly informed both of them about what had gone down in the bookshop early at the restaurant, but he was going into detail now that they were alone. Though he told the story politely, both of the other beings could tell the angel was hiding distaste under his prim exterior.

“— and then they left without so much as a goodbye, as usual.” Aziraphale finished his story. “I don’t think they suspected anything, but Sandalphon did say he smelled something evil in the backroom.”

Crowley grumbled. “I don’t know how you’re suppose to exactly hide that.”

“I’m not blaming you, dear.” Aziraphale replied. “I am, however, concerned about it. They’ve never mentioned anything before, so why now?”

“Usually it’s only Gabriel, isn’t it?” Crowley said. “None of the other archangels use to come along.”

“Yes, I do believe so. They’re usually all too busy up in Heaven.” Aziraphale sighed. “He must have brought Sandalphon along since it’s so close to Armageddon.”

“Hey, dad, how many archangels are there again?” Adam asked, leaning his head back against the seat.

Adam hadn’t ever met any other angels other than Aziraphale *, but he did have one memory of Gabriel dropping into the bookshop for a surprise inspection while Adam had been over a few years back, when he was a toddler. He ended up hiding in the backroom while his dad dealt with his boss, and the memory had become ingrained in his head since.

* And, for the record, any other demons besides Crowley.

“Oh, well.” Aziraphale paused as they thought. “There’s Gabriel, and Sandalphon, Micheal, Uriel —“

“All major self-righteous know-it-alls.” Crowley interrupted, one hand driving and the other waving about to emphasis his point. “Have been since the day they were created.”

“Well, I don’t know —“

Whatever Aziraphale was going to say next was cut off by a resounding ‘thump’ and Crowley hitting the brakes in responses to whatever had caused the sound. Adam jerked in his seat and Dog barked when it nearly went skidding off the seat. However, Crowley and Aziraphale were more preoccupied with whatever caused the thump then the scratched seats. *

* Unbeknownst to all the beings in the car, the seats were fine, as Adam knew how much his pops cared for his Bentley and didn’t want it to be ruined.

“You hit something.” Aziraphale said after a moment of stunned silence.

“I didn't.” Crowley said. “Something hit me.”

“Stay here, Adam.” Aziraphale added, seeing Adam unbuckle his car seat. He grumbled, but obliged.

The two, then, got out of the car, and Adam rolled down the window to poke his head out. However, at his angle, he wasn’t able to see what — who? — they had hit. 

Aziraphale and Crowley rounded to the front of the car to see Anathema Device lying on the ground, groaning softly, next to her destroyed bike. 

“Let there be light.” Aziraphale said, and with a snap of his fingers, the entire area got illuminated. The woman was much too dazed to question it, he reasoned with himself.

“How the hell did you do that?” Anathema asked, however, dispelling that theory. She pushed herself up to her elbows and gingerly touched her forehead. “I think I hit my head.”

However, Aziraphale, still a nice person at heart even though she was catching on that something wasn’t quite right, leaned down and gently waved his hand over her ankle, which was sticking at an odd angle. “That's it, no bones broken.”

Finally, Adam managed to push himself out far enough that he could see his dad helping the witch and his pops watching on silently. He couldn’t contain his startled gasp and asked, “Anathema?”

The woman immediately piped up, twisting around to look at him. “Adam?”

He extracted his head from the window and pushed the door opening, shivering a bit as the cool night arm hit his bare skin, but padded over to where his parents and the woman awaited, Dog following at his heels. “What’a you doing here?” He asked.

“I was biking home, and — my bike!” She exclaimed. However, Aziraphale was already on it, holding up the miraculously repaired bike. “Oh.”

“Amazingly resilient, these old machines.” His dad said with a smile. 

Anathema seemed momentarily put off, but glanced at Adam, and he smiled at her as well. “It’s alright, these are my fathers.” Then, he added. “Dad, Pops, this is the witch I was telling you about.”

Said witch, when realizing that these weren’t random strangers, visibly relaxed and got to her feet and stuck her hand out to shake. “Hello. My names Anathema Device.” *

* Crowley, who had otherwise been silent throughout the entire exchange, muttered something that sounded like ‘how terrible’. Aziraphale didn’t comment but was confused given the meaning of the name. Adam still thought it was a bit odd but definitely a witchs name.

“Nice to meet you. My name is Alexander, and this is my partner, Anthony.” His dad said, ever friendly, while his pops just lifted his hand in greeting when Anathema looked at him. “However, we  are in the middle of the street, so would you like us to give you a ride home?”

“No, no, we're not giving her a lift.” His pops spoke up for the first time. Adam, Aziraphale and Dog all turned to look at him, while Anathema shuffled nervously. “There's nowhere to put the bike.”

“Except for the bike rack.” Aziraphale retorted. He turned to Anathema again and gestured to the side of the car opposite to where Adam had been sitting *. “Do get in, my dear.”

* The door was open, but whether that was Aziraphales or Adams doing, they didn’t know.

With one last uneasy look at Adam, Anathema got into the car, still shocked from the ordeal and a little bit suspicious. However, the family seemed trustworthy, so she gave Adam a polite smile when he climbed back in beside her, Dog jumping up in between the two now that its seat was taken.

“So, where are we taking you?” Aziraphale asked as him and Crowley took up their usual positions in the front two seats.

“Back to the village.” She said. “I'll give you directions.”

The car was silent for the entire ride, expect for the cars radio, which had taken to blasting Queens ‘Bicycle Race’ on it’s own accordance, to the pain of the occupants in the car. Anathema thought it was just some funny mockery of a joke and didn’t comment, out of politeness or fear, she didn’t know.

Well, until she glanced through the back window to her bike. She hadn’t remembered seeing anyone actually put it on the rack, but that wasn’t what caught her attention.

“Listen, my bike, it didn't have gears. I know my bike didn't have gears.” No one in the car replied. The ginger, Anthony, she reminded herself, didn’t seem to keen to talk, while Alexander must not have heard her. Adam just scolded Dog softly when he wiggled around on the seat. “Make a left.”

Luckily, they heard that, and the car veered left, throwing around all the occupants along with it. The couple in the front then started talking in mummered voices, but she wasn’t able to hear them. Adam, however, who had grown up with the demon and angel, and who was also a kid *, was able to catch what they were saying.

* Kids have a very good skill of listening in on adult conversations, to the objection of the majority of adults.

“Oh, Lord, heal this bike.” His pops drawled. His dad looked away from the teasing and frowned.

“I got carried away.” He mumbled. Adam suppressed a snicker that Anathema didn’t seem to notice, too busy looking out the window into the dark, trying to find her house.

”You can drop me off here.” She said. The car slowed to a stop in front of her cottage, and all five occupants of the car got out, though it wasn’t strictly necessary for them to do so.

“Thank you for the lift.” She told the family. 

“No problem at all, my dear.” Aziraphale said, rolling her bike over. Once again, she didn’t remember seeing him get it down from the rack. He then added, if a little smugly, to his husband. “Oh, look, no gears. Just a perfectly normal velocipede.”

“Bicycle. Can we get on?” Crowley interjected. “Come on, Adam. It’s getting late.”

Adam waved goodbye before following his pops, and Anathema waved back, still a little dazed. She took her bike back from Aziraphale, who was about to share goodbyes when Crowley said. “Get in, angel.”

Quickly, Aziraphale waved over his shoulder as he slipped into his seat. The car pulled away from the curb, and as the family drove away from the witch, Crowley and Aziraphale shared uneasy glances. They had met plenty of witches in their time on Earth, and only a few had been  true witches. 

For angels and demons, it was easy to tell which one was which. They could sense emotions from the humans, so magic and otherworldly powers weren’t that much of a stretch. And Anathema, while not one of the strongest they had encountered, had a gentle stream of magic surrounding her like an aura.

If she was a true witch, and she was hanging about in Tadfield, that couldn’t mean good things. Crowley threw a glance towards Adam, who was petting Dog behind the ears. Of course, Adam had a subconscious ... force field around him that stopped his presence being detected by any sources, ethereal or occult or otherwise, but still the fact that she was  there set both of them on edge.

Gently, Aziraphale reached over to grab Crowley’s free hand, which rested on the shelf between their seats, and squeezed it comfortingly.

Adam, meanwhile, was just excited to tell his friends about this tomorrow. Anathema seemed like a nice woman, and besides, she wouldn’t be able to find him, right?

***

Adam yawned as they pulled into the driveway of their home. Dog, who had taken over Anathemas seat, yawned as well. As they pulled to a stop, the sound of the engine shutting off woke both the boy and Hellhound and he unbuckled himself and pushed the door open.

“I’m gonna get my PJs on.” Adam said as he exited the vehicle. Aziraphale chuckled.

“Alright, dear.” He said. Adam continued up into the house as Crowley and Aziraphale got out. However, just before he was about to follow his husband and son inside, Aziraphale noticed a rectangular shape in the backseat.

“Everything alright, angel?” Crowley asked, notching Aziraphale move towards the doors to the backseat. Adam was already inside, the door clanking shut behind him. 

“Yes, of course ...” He trailed off as he opened the door and grabbed the object. It was a book, he could tell, and an old one at that. The cover was rough and leathery in his hands. “Did Adam bring a book with him from the shop?”

“I don’t think so, no.” Crowley said, coming to stand beside him. He examined the book through his sunglasses. “That witch must have left it here.”

However, Aziraphale didn’t reply, staring at the cover. Crowley leaned forward to get a better look * and read the faded letters that spelled out the title.  _ The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. _

* It was still dark out, and hard to read with snake eyes.

The name sounded vaguely familiar to him, Aziraphale must have mentioned it at some point. It looked pretty old, and rare, so maybe the angel wanted to keep it? He knew that Aziraphales angelic nature would never allow him to steal, but he could always try to buy it off the woman instead. However, he was silent, which was worrying to the demon. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, my dear. Let’s - let’s get inside.” Aziraphale muttered, and Crowley nodded in agreement. The two wandered up the path and inside the house, where Crowley headed upstairs to make sure Adam was brushing his teeth.

Aziraphale, meanwhile, wandered over to the kitchen table and set the book down. However, he hesitated over opening it. This book was a mystery in bookseller circles. It never sold one copy when it was published, but it was, apparently, filled with the only collection, as the name suggested, of accurate prophecies in the world.

However, he was so caught up in his thinking he didn’t hear Crowley come back downstairs until the demon was beside him. “Okay, what’s going with this book? You’re acting weird, angel.”

Aziraphale shook his head and smiled at his husbands concern. “I’m fine. It’s just ... this isn’t a normal book. It’s a prophecy book, dear, and it was owned by a real witch. I want to open it, but ...” He trailed off, unsure of how to explain it.

However, Crowley reached forward and flipped the book open to a random page. “There, opened it for you.”

Aziraphale glared at him, but was more caught up in the page of prophecies. One stood out, at the top of the page. Knowing Crowley should hear it too, he read aloud, “When that the angel and devil readeth these words of mine, then the final days are certes upon us. Open thine eyes to understand. Open thine eyes and read, I do say, foolish lovers, for thy son doth grow ... sleepy.”

It was at that moment Adam choose to call out from upstairs. “Hey, Dad, Pops, can Dog —“ He yawned, cutting off his speech, before continuing on. “come and sleep with me tonight?”

It took a moment for both of them to regain their voices, but Crowley called back up. “Alright, but be careful. We’ll be up in a few minutes to say goodnight.” 

Adam cheered, and he heard Dog bark softly. “Okay, thanks!” Then a platter of footsteps on old floorboards. When all sound ceased from upstairs, both of them breathed out a sigh of relief, but their eyes then dropped to the book again. This time, it was Crowley who reached out and grabbed his husbands hand, gripping it tight.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale said tentatively, as if he was scared just speaking would make everything around them shatter. “I think I’m going to be up all night.”

The demon hummed. “I can make you some cocoa, if you want.”

“Yes, please.” He sighed. “I’m going to be awhile.”

***

The next morning, Anathema woke up free of any aches or pains that you would expect to have after getting hit by a car. Still confused over the events of last night, she got dressed and played it over in her mind.

Adam was a nice boy. He seemed perfectly polite and respectful, even if his fathers were a bit weird. The ginger one — Anthony, right — had barley said a word for the entire time she was with them, and she recalled he was also wearing sunglasses. In the middle of the night. Who does that?

The blonde one — Alexander? — has been friendly. A little bit too friendly, and also extremely weird. She must have imagined that light, and her bike having gears. She had just been hit by a car, after all. Besides, even if the couple had been a little weird, she had felt strangely safe around them. Sure, they put her a bit on edge, but she hadn’t been scared that they would have hurt her or anything.

However, what had really set her off was their auras. As a witch, she was able to sense and, if she concentrated hard enough,  see , the shimmering energy surrounding a person. What had caught her off guard about the family — the entire family, how could that happen? — was that she wasn’t able to find it. *

* Unbeknownst to Anathema, Adam  _did_ have an aura. However, she wasn’t able to find it because it was stretched out. It surrounded Tadfield, a specific bookshop in Soho, and was particularly strong whenever he was in the vicinity of certain people. And the reason Aziraphale and Crowley didn’t have auras was because they weren’t really human and, if you did manage to find an aura around them, you would probably be blinded by angelic light and demonic darkness.

Maybe it was because she was so distracted trying to find the Antichrist and his Hellhound, and also because she had just been hit by a car when she met them for the first time. However, it couldn’t be a coincidence that she met Adam in the woods, then saw him and his strange parents a few hours later.

However, just as it crossed her mind to maybe check Agnes Nutters book, her phone rang from where it sat on the table, the screen flashing and lighting up the wooden surface. She checked it and saw her mother’s ID staring back at her. Not able to hold back a sigh, she answered.

“ _ Hola, mi amor. How is it going? _ ” Her mother’s voice greeted on the other side of the phone.

“Lousy.” She admitted as she moved around the kitchen making breakfast.

“ _ Any progress in finding the young beast and the lesser beast? _ ”

“It must be at the north end of the village. I'm certain of it.” She replied. “I just can't figure out where.” 

“ _ Have you used your pendulum? _ ”

She rolled her eyes, but then realized her mom couldn’t see her and said, “Mom, I'm not a kid. If I get too close, the signal swamps me. Further away, I can't get an accurate fix.”

Her mother sighed in the way only mothers can. “ _ Mi amor, the answers are always in the book. It's just sometimes you don't see them till afterwards _ .”

“The book.” She mumbled. Her half finished thought from early came floating back through her mind. Where was it? She usually kept it on her bedside table, just so she always knew where it was, but it hadn’t been there when she woke up. 

Oh, god. 

“Holy shit, Mom. I'm going to have to call you back.” She said quickly. Before her mother could reply, she ended the call and threw her phone down. She stared in horror at her phone, the only sound being her laboured breathing.

Well, fuck. She was screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we meet Anathema and Gabriel makes an appearance!! and we got a little bit of fun family bonding. luckily the real shit isnt gonna start till chp 4 lmao.
> 
> speaking of chapters, i got this one out a lot early then planned but the rest of this fic will not be like that. chp 3 is v long and i have no idea when ill get it done, and the rest of the chapters are just question mark clouds. 
> 
> i want to get this done before september rolled around, but at this point i have no idea. the uploading schedule of this fic is a goddamn mystery.
> 
> anyways, please point out any spelling/grammar mistakes you see bc i suck at editing. thanks for reading anyhow.


	3. 03 - I don't know what compels me to do the very thing that fells me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks to the past, including how Aziraphale and Crowley got together, Adam growing up and how the family met some of the other characters. Later, a witch and the Antichrist have lemonade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY VERY IMPORTANT NOTE: in the last chapter i used Ezra as Aziraphales fake human name bc the two sounded similar. however i realized that didn’t make much sense given ‘A. Z Fell and Co’ so i changed it to Alexander. that name is used in this chapter and the last chapter as been edited as well. just wanted to let everyone who read before this update know about the change lmao.
> 
> sup everyone. it’s been a little while! lot longer than i intended, but this chapter just kept on growing and i couldn’t stop it. i actually did cut out a lot of parts bc i wanted this get this chapter out before christmas. but yeah, here it is, and all its 20k words glory, featuring  
> -local ace/aro author doesn’t know how to write romance but are trying their best  
> -local agender author goes insane for angels and demons canonically being nonbinary and accidentally gets off topic and talks about gender for a bit  
> -local young author doesn’t know how to write children but are trying their best  
> -local nonreligious author doesn’t understand any religion and at this point is to afraid to ask  
> -local sleep-deprived author can’t edit for the life of them
> 
> so yeah, enjoy this fucker which is legit longer than my only other multichapter fic. i need to lie down.
> 
> chapter title: Bad Ideas by Tessa Violet
> 
> !!! tw: implied/references homophobia. theres a few very brief mentions but i want to warn people just in case. !!!

_ 1941 _

_ (London) _

  
Angels feel love.

Of course they did, they were suppose to be beings of divine love and all that. Aziraphale could even sense the emotion from humans, and it always made him happy whenever an married couple came into his shop holding hands, or he saw two young teenagers walking down the street, barley able to look at eachother without blushing. Not just romantic love, either, angels could sense the love between two best friends or a parent and child, and all types made him joyous.

However, what most people didn’t realize was that angels could feel love other than the all-encompassing one they always felt for all beings. Could feel love for specific people. Romantic love, in the way humans do.

Aziraphale was one of those angels. And he, to put it a lightly, was fucked. *

* This was the first time Aziraphale had ever thought any variation of the word ‘fuck’, but it was currently the only word in the English language strong enough to convey the thousands of thoughts flying through his head.

He glanced over at Crowley in the seat beside him. The demon was still hiding under his wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses, even in the darkness of the night, even with no one else around. He can still hear the whistle of bombs on the distance, and understood why all the humans have deserted the streets. It was a dark time, not just because it was night.

However, the empty streets proved a new challenge — Crowley, who seemed to be inclined to break every speed limit in existence. Honestly, he didn’t know what to expect when taking the ride from the demon, who always was moving to fast, changing with the times, who never did things half way. He should have known better, really, to expect that Crowley wouldn’t try to break every petty law.

“Please, Crowley, mind the speed limit!” He said when the demon made a particularly harsh turn. “They are there for a reason!”

“There’s no one else on the road, angel!” Crowley exclaimed.

“Yes, well ...” He didn’t come up with good argument in time, and Crowley pushed the gas pedal down farther. It made his heart both lurch uncomfortably at the danger and melt in fondness at the demons delighted cackle at his apparent fear. Dear Lord, how did he fall in love with him?

Oh, right, because despite being a demon, despite being ‘ _the enemy_ ’ and ‘ _on opposite sides_ ’ , Crowley never once let him get discorporated despite the fact it would get thousands of awards in Hell for it, or the fact how he always agreed to their ‘fraternizing’ despite the risks it posed, or maybe the blaring obvious declaration of friendship he showed just a little bit ago, where he saved both himself, Aziraphale and the books from a bombing. He didn’t need to save the books — Crowley didn’t read, he knew, because of the snake eyes — they had no use to him, he did it because  _Aziraphale_ cared about them.

It made the heart he didn’t need flutter around in his chest.

One more rough turn that sent Aziraphale grabbling for a handhold and they pulled up outside the bookshop, the entire street deserted and the lights in all the other shops turned off. He turned to Crowley, who was still wearing his hat and sunglasses in the dark, maybe to hide the burning in his feet Aziraphale could guess was going on below the steering wheel.

“Why don’t you come on it for a drink?” He asked, hopefully without his voice cracking. “I can ice your feet for you, they must be hurting quite a lot.”

Crowley shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. Should be getting back home, anyway. Check on my plants.”

“No, I insist.” The angel said, not willing to let the demon slither his way out of this one. “It’s the least I can do for you, since you ... daringly rescued me.”

“It was nothing, angel.” Crowley replied, keeping his gaze straight ahead. “And I told you, my feet are fine —“

“I saw you wincing the whole way here, Crowley.” He said firmly. “Come inside before I have to drag you.”

The other being looked startled at that, but luckily didn’t comment, and followed Aziraphale out of the car and into the bookshop. The door unlocked automatically since Aziraphale could be bothered to use his key, and he immediately felt calmer surrounded by his books.

Crowley was slow to follow him inside, slipping in just before the door shut closed. It locked automatically, and Aziraphale sighed and set the bag of books on a nearby table. As Crowley slunk deeper in the shop, no doubt heading towards the backroom to lay on the couch like he usually did, Aziraphale opened the bag to inspect the books inside.

He had no doubt that they were exactly as they were when he had first put them inside, but a little bit of his heart still unclenched when he saw the covers were unscathed. Slowly, one by one, he took each book out and held it in his hands, inspecting all the pages and spines to make sure there wasn’t any damage to it. 

“Need a light?” Crowley suddenly asked. He jumped slightly and turned to see the demon slouched against one of the shelves, one hand on the pull for a lamp on the table beside him.

“Oh, yes, please.” He said. The demon pulled the chain and the lamp flickered on, bathing the two in a golden glow. “You can go sit down if you want, I’ll be there in a minute to help your feet.”

Aziraphale turned back to the books, now able to see better because of the light, and expected Crowley to listen to his instructions and slink to the back. However, he didn’t hear any footsteps, and when he glanced back he saw the demon still watching him. He gave him a small smile and ran a hand over the spine of the current book in his hand.

“I don’t think I ever said thank you for saving my books.” He told the demon. Crowley made a noncommittal hum. “And - well, it must be in my nature as an angel to be polite *, but I do really mean it when I say it. Thank you, Crowley.”

* Crowley would disagree — all the other angels were only polite for appearances — and say that it was in  Aziraphales nature to be polite, not an angels, but of course, he would never say that aloud.

“It wasn’t anything, really, angel.” Crowley replied, ducking his head. “I just didn’t want to hear your complainin’ about your books being destroyed.”

“Angels don’t complain.” He said. “And  I certainly don’t, either.”

“Whatever helps you sleep better at night.” Crowley said. He looked proud at his quip and went to shift against the shelf, but Aziraphale was able to see his barley concealed wince when his feet shuffled across the floor.

“I don’t sleep, Crowley, and you know that.” He replied. “But let’s get your feet iced, shall we?”

Luckily, Crowley didn’t need any prompting to take his usual slumped position on the couch in the back room. Aziraphale discarded his coat and hat, both slightly stained with dark ash from the aftermath of the explosion, before setting about getting a tub to soak his feet in. It had been awhile since the angel had been involved with healing any injuries *, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to treat holy burns. And so, he paused in his trek of getting water sent and turned back to Crowley.

* He had served as a doctor and a medic multiple times throughout history, sometimes on orders from up above, and sometimes not. Though he used miracles most of time, there was a few where his patients weren’t unconscious or in shock, so he had to treat them the old-fashioned way, and he remembered a thing or two from it.

“Crowley, may I see your feet before I do anything? I want to see how bad the burns are.”

“Out of context, that would sound incredibly weird.” Crowley replied. “But .... sure, I guess.”

He scrunched his nose up as Crowley began to take his shoes and socks off. “Goodness, it would.”

The other being snorted, but his feet were bare and Aziraphale noticed he winced when he set them on the ground, so he kneeled down to examine the burns. It wasn’t as bad as he thought, but they must hurt worse than they appeared as they were inflicted by holiness. He debated what to do, then he just decided to do what he was going to do.

“Hmm, yes, I think I’ll stick with my original plan.” He told the demon. “Just some water to cool your feet off and reduce the pain.” 

“‘Ight.” Crowley mumbled. There was a pause as Aziraphale stood up and began to go upstairs to get a bowl and water. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Nonsense.” He replied immediately. “Of course I do. You saved me back there, Crowley, and my books. You didn’t —“ He cut himself off before he could continue on with the train of thought he had started in the car. “Consider it a thank you.”

The demon didn’t say anything else, so Aziraphale quickly hurried to the flat above to get started on the water bowl. It took a few minutes to even find a bowl among all the stacks of books *, a few more to get the water cool enough to be able to soothe heat, but by the time he got back downstairs Crowley had slouched so far into the couch he looked more like a blob of black clothing then an actual human-shaped body.

* The flat above the shop was more of a storage unit for books he didn’t want to even risk parting with yet rather then a liveable space. Of course, he was the only one that ever saw it, and it wasn’t like he slept or cooked, so he had no use for the kitchen or bedroom.

“Here you go, Crowley.” He said, setting the bowl down by his feet. “I’ll let you work out a ... comfortable position for yourself. Would you like anything to drink? Wine? Coffee?”

“No thanks. I’ll be - I’ll be leaving soon.” Crowley said, sitting up so he could lean over and shift the bowl around.

Aziraphale couldn’t help himself but frown. “Of course. I’m ... I’m going to make myself a hot cocoa. I’ll be back.”

He hurried back upstairs again, anxious thoughts swirling in his head. He knew Crowley wouldn’t be staying very long, but a small part of him wished the demon would be staying the night. Despite the darkness outside, it was warm in the bookshop. They could drink and talk and maybe ...

He shook his head at the top of the stairs. No. He couldn’t  ever suggest anything more with Crowley. He was a demon, Aziraphale was an angel. It wouldn’t ever work out.

Expect that they were friends. Crowley made that loud and clear earlier that night, and they had had fights in the past *, but they still had an overall positive relationship together. But still, that didn’t mean Crowley wanted anything  romantic with him.

* Their last interaction, in fact, was over a few decades ago, and it ended with an ugly fight over holy water. Aziraphale shivered just thinking about it.

Oh, goodness. He was in the deep end now.

Quickly, he got on with making his hot cocoa and made his way back downstairs. Crowley was just as he had left him, but he had removed his hat and leaned his hat back against the couch. When he entered, however, he lifted his head and, presumably, opened his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, hoping his comforting smile seemed genuine. 

Crowley shrugged. “Better.”

He sat down beside Crowley on the couch and glanced at him. The demon was avoiding look at him, he could tell, hiding behind his glasses. Aziraphale couldn’t help but wonder what the demon thought of him. He cared for him, of course, but was it like a secret admiration? Or just a friendship? Most likely the latter, but he couldn’t stop his thoughts from wandering no matter how much he tried to stop it.

When he first met the demon, he had believed what he was told in Heaven. That demons didn’t have feelings, they had lost them when they Fell, that they were heartless and cold and unfeeling. But Aziraphale knew that was untrue, know, after years and years of talking with Crowley. Maybe the other demons were like the stereotypes surrounding them, but he knew Crowley had more feelings then some of the angels back in Heaven, for goodness sake.

If he had been discorporated in that church, his superiors would have been very disappointed in him. However, he had just been trying to spread some good in this time of war, when Heaven had been oddly silent about miracles for him. But Crowley had saved him, and his books, despite the fact he could get scrutinized for using such a big demonic miracle.

There wasn’t really any way to misinterpret the gesture — it showed Crowley cared. Cared about his safety, cared about the things he liked, cared about him, despite all the times he had acted unkindly towards him and hurt him (accidentally) and refused him. And, well, Aziraphale cared about him. Well, more than ‘just cared’. He was in love with a capital ‘L’.

He felt like he was going to suffocate under his feelings. Slowly, he put his drink on the table beside him, making Crowley look up from where he had been staring off into the room. Seeing him sitting there, face contorted in mild confusion, Aziraphale felt a sudden wave of love overtake him. 

And then, in a feat of stupid bravery just like Crowley had showed earlier that night, he leaned forward and kissed him.

Sort of. He had never kissed anyone before, and was mostly going off what he had read in his books. It was quick, and chaste, barley a press of lips together before he pulled back with a heated face. Crowley had gone silent, and even in the dim light Aziraphale could see the demons face was almost as red as his hair.

“Was that okay?” He asked quietly, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Somehow, all the scenarios he had thought of for their situation were escaping him.

It took a few moments of Crowley to answer, mouth moving open and closed a few times before he actually spoke. “Yeah, that wasss - ngk - more than okay. Great, actually. Surprisssed, iss all.” He swallowed thickly. “Why?”

He didn’t answer for a long moment, shuffling in the couch. It was best to be honest, after all, he was the one who got them into this mess. “I did it because I do believe - I do believe I’m in love with you.”

Once again, Crowley was silent, then he buried his face in his hands and pulled his knees up close to his chest, dripping water on the fabric. “Oh, Go — Ssata — Sssomebody , fuck, Aziraphale!”

“Keep your feet in the water.” He corrected softly.

“Mood-killer.” Crowley shot back, but he put his feet back in the bucket anyway.

Crowleys face was almost as red as his hair, and Aziraphale could almost see the glowing snake pupils behind his sunglasses as the demons control on his more nonhuman-bits began to slip. He almost always kept those parts hidden as to blend in more with the human world, so he must have been really surprised by the angels surprise confession.

Aziraphale then realized, probably a bit too late, that maybe he had misread the room and the demon hadn’t actually wanted the angel to kiss him. Oh, dear. He hadn’t wanted to make him uncomfortable, just show him that he was grateful for everything he had done, and maybe just display that he cared for him, too.

But he hadn’t left yet, so maybe there was still time to rectify this.

_Oh, please. Please don’t leave, not after what I just realized_.  He pleaded. He almost prayed, but She was the last being he would like involved right now.

“Crowley, I do apologize for ... jumping on you like that, and confessing so quickly.” He said quickly, hoping to be able to fix the now-shattered pieces of their relationship that hung in between them like a broken spiderweb. “I shouldn’t have done so, I can see now it has made you uncomfortable. If you are willing to forgive me for my ... indecency, we can both forget about this and carry on with our ... relationship as it always has been.”

Finally, Crowley managed to look up at him. “No, angel, forgetting about this this is the last bloody this I want to do.”

He stiffened. The other being didn’t sound angry, which didn’t really match with his words. “I ... don’t understand.”

Crowley made a noise in between an annoyed growl and a fond whine, and then it was Aziraphales turn to stand frozen as the demon planted a warm kiss on his lips.

Much like the first one, it was over quick, over just as Aziraphale began to realize what was happening and had half a thought to kiss back. However, unlike the first one — which was short and tentative and filled with shaky nervousness — this one was a bit more firm, a bit more concrete, and it didn’t feel like books described it. There were no butterflies, no fireworks, but it still felt  good .

He didn’t know which one of them pulled back first, only that it simultaneously felt way too long and way too short, but for a moment he felt dazed and tingly all over, and his hand drifted up to gently press at his lips when the demon across from him leaned back, somehow looking as nervous as he currently felt.

“Does that answer your question?” Crowley asked, face still red as hellfire. Aziraphale nodded and went to speak, but found his voice wasn’t working. “Angel, you okay?”

“Yes - yes, perfectly okay.” Aziraphale replied shakily. “Could you - could you do that again? Just to see?”

Finally, the demon grinned, lop-sided and bright. “Bastard.”

“Fiend.” He shot back, but then the others lips were on his again and all rational thinking flew out the window which inspired the thought for the angel to ask Crowley at some point exactly how long he’s wanted to do that. *

* Unknown to Aziraphale, Crowley had wanted to kiss the angel for almost as long as kissing had been invented — and had been in love with him for longer, since they met on the wall of Eden.

***

_ 1971 _

  
_(Soho)_

Years passed, and Aziraphale and Crowley fell into a new normal.

It was the next morning after the frightful night after the church did the two finally talk about what it meant in their new ... relationship. They decided ‘partners’ was the best word to describe it, and that it would be basically the same as before, expect with few secret meetings and nights in the bookshop, and with more kissing than there had been previously.

Neither of them cared enough to worry about an Effort, and really only bothered with the presentation portion of human gender. Aziraphale had been male for awhile now, not because he had a preference, but because it was quite a bit easier to do things in a male body.  _That_ entire portion of humanity was, however, a bit of a sore spot for him, and if you asked about it after he got enough drinks in him, he would rant about it for at least two hours. *

* Crowley timed it one time.

Crowley was a bit more fluid in his presentation, and would switch between female, male and inbetween whenever he felt like it. For the last few years, however, he had been using a male body, which meant not only did the two have to hide their relationship from Heaven and Hell, but they also had to hide it from the humans.

While in the last little bit of human history, humans had started recognize love between people of same gender was real, it didn’t mean people respected it or even accepted it as a real emotion and not some mental illness that needed curing. That was also an angry thing for Aziraphale, and he often, once again, went on rants while drunk and even occasionally snuck out to protest. He didn’t think Crowley knew. *

* Crowley knew.

They had a bit of a spat over the holy water again, which resulted in a few years of no contact, before finally Crowley apologized and said he wanted in case things when bad and he needed to ... fight some demons, he said. After that, Azirapahle bailed and gave him a small thermos of the stuff to keep in his flat, and hid one under his bed in the bookshop, as well.

Besides that, everything had almost been ... blissful, he would say, if he was a poet or author, maybe. Of course, there was always the fear of Heaven or Hell finding out about it, so maybe a better word would be _careful happiness_ . He was on edge most of the time, but he was happy, and as the years started to tick by he got more and more at ease with his secret relationship with the demon.

Of course, he still always got anxious when Crowley was late.

Currently, the angel paced around his shop, awaiting his partners arrival. Though they didn’t go out to restaurants together very often in fear of getting caught, Crowley would sometimes stop to get treats from bakery or takeout from one of Aziraphales favourite restaurants * before driving to the bookshop and drinking wine in the back while Aziraphale ate whatever tasty food he had brought over.

* Which was odd, since most of his favourite restaurants didn’t  do takeout.

Aziraphale tried to reason with himself that that was the reason Crowley was late, and that nothing bad had happened to the demon on his way over, however, his mind began to run wild as soon as the clock ticked past 6:30 — half an hour after Crowley was suppose to arrive. Oh, dear, what if something had happened to him?

Just as the angel began to debate going over to Crowleys flat to see if anything was the matter, the door to the bookshop jingled open and a warm familiar voice called out, “Hey, angel!”

He breathed out a sigh of relief and made his way to the front, where Crowley was disposing his glasses in his front pocket and placing a bag of something on a table by the door. “Hello, my dear.”

“Hi.” Crowley said again despite having already greeted him. “Everything alright?”

“Of course, darling, I was just worried when you were late.” Aziraphale said.

“Sorry about that. I had something important to do.” Crowley replied nonchalantly. “Which was why I told you to get a phone installed, that way I could have called you.”

Aziraphale was about to retort with his usual ‘I don’t need a phone, if something dire happens I’ll contact you angelically’, but since he had nearly worked a path into the floor from his worrying he decided to ignore the remark and instead focus on the bag Crowley had set down. “What’s this?”

He could particularly feel Crowleys eye roll behind his back as he rummaging in the bag and pulled out a small box of sushi. “Oh, thank you, Crowley!”

“It’s from your favourite place.” Crowley said as he made his way upstairs to where the wine was kept. “You can start eating, I’ll be back in a sec’.”

He disappeared up the stairs to the flat above the shop as Aziraphale disposed of the bag and sat down on the couch in the backroom. The sushi must have been the ‘important thing’ Crowley had needed to get down, but that was still odd, since it never usually took that long to get food. Oh, well, maybe the restaurant had been busy.

He located chopsticks from somewhere just as Crowley returned with a bottle of red wine and two glasses. However, Aziraphale also noticed the demon holding a small plastic packet under his arm. Leaning forward to see better, he realized it was a packet of candles.

“Where did you get those?” He asked as Crowley placed them, the wine glasses and bottle on the table. 

“You’ve had them upstairs for awhile, angel.” Crowley said.

“I’m certain I’ve never had candles upstairs. I only have a few in my desk drawer in case I need to contact Heaven the old-fashioned way.” He replied. “Way to much of a fire hazard.”

His partner shrugged. “Well, they were up there. Should I light them?”

“I just said they’re a fire hazard, my dear, but if you want so I guess we can find a lighter somewhere.” He said.

“No, no, you’re right. Lotta books a’ound, got it.” He nodded, a little too vigorously, before picking up the wine bottle and gesturing towards him. It was not a bottle he had remembered being in his upstairs, but maybe Crowley had updated his collection without him realizing. “Wine?”

Crowley poured a glass for him before handing it over, before pouring another one for himself and collapsing on the sofa. Aziraphale took his place in the old chair with his wine and sushi before beginning to eat. It had been awhile since he had eaten at that particular restaurant and as he ate he remembered why he liked it so much — the food was simply divine.

“Want some music?” Crowley asked all the sudden.

“Sounds wonderful, my dear.” He said. “I have some records behind the desk you can go through if you wish.”

Crowley  hmmed and disappeared behind the desk to check it out. There was shuffling noises as the demon looked through his records, then a groan. “Angel, you have nothing good back here.”

He was a little offended at that. “Oh, don’t say that. I have plenty of good records —“

“Nothing for what I’m looking for.” Crowley mumbled. It was so quiet his partner probably didn’t even realize he had heard, but his curiosity was piqued, so Aziraphale chose to respond anyways.

“And what  _are_ you looking for, my dear?” 

“Nothing.” Crowley said quickly, standing up from behind the desk. “Don’t worry about it.” 

Aziraphale gave him a look that translated to ‘I believe you but I’m also going to let the subject drop because I have more important things to do.’

However, as he started eating again and Crowley flopped on the couch in his usual snake-like fashion, the angel noticed a pair of eyes watching him and glanced up at his partner across the room. The demons yellow eyes were fixed on him while a small smile played on his lips. 

“Is there something on my face?” He asked, smiling back.

Crowley blinked at the sound of his voice before tilting his head. “What?”

“You’re staring quite intently at me.” He explained. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no - no, nothings wrong.” Crowley said quickly. He thought that was the end of the conversation, but then Crowley sucked in a breath and said. “But can we talk, for a moment?”

Oh, no. Aziraphale knew from the books he read that ‘we need to talk’ was generally a very bad phase. However, Crowley looked nervous, and he had been acting weird all night, which wasn’t the way he acted when he was going to do something ‘bad’. So, Aziraphale told his racing heart to calm down, and set his food aside to focus on his partner. “Of course, darling. What do we need to talk about?”

Crowleys face was unreadable, and he didn’t look him in eye. He seemed to take a moment to collect his thoughts before starting. “It’s been a really good few years together. The best years I’ve had on Earth, I think, even if ... even if we have to hide it all from  everyone . But it’s still been wonderful. I really hope you know that.”

Multiple thoughts were running through his brain, almost all of them bad. He really needed to stop reading romance novels, they were messing with his head. However, he could tell Crowley wasn’t finished yet, and wanted to hear the rest of what he was going to say, so he stayed still and quiet. After a brief pause, his partner took in a deep breath.

“And I know I don’t say it - actually I’ve never said it. It’s hard, y’know? Words, and thin’s.” Crowley swallowed, blinked once, twice, before looking up to meet his gaze. “But - I ... love you, Aziraphale. Way to much for my tiny demon heart to handle, really. Nearly discorporate just looking at you, half the time. And well, I might not say it, even thought it  really true, so, so much, I want to be able to show you. Just a little bit.”

And he held back his startled gasp when the demon dropped to one knee, and watched on in dumbfounded silence when he rummaged around in his pocket for a moment before pulling on a small black box, and oh, was this really happening —

“Aziraphale, angel, love of my fucking life, will you marry me —“

The demon, however, had been forced to end the sentence prematurely, barley able to get the word ‘me’ out before he suddenly had an armful of angel. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around his chest tightly, pinning his arms to his sides and making him almost drop the box in surprise. 

However, before Crowley could say anything more, the angel leaned forward to kiss him. It was a long moment before he finally pulled back, and Aziraphale slid to the floor, smiling so hard it hurt his cheeks, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. His partner across from him looked dazed, but finally shook his head and smiled back.

“Is that a yes?” Crowley asked when he managed to recover. *

* Aziraphale was tempted to say ‘no’, just to tease the poor lovesick demon, but not only would it break Crowley’s heart, it would break his, too.

“Of course, Crowley.” Aziraphale beamed. “Of course I’ll marry you. And I love you too, obviously. No matter what Heaven or Hell throws at us, and you don’t have to worry, dear, about saying that you love me — you show it everyday.”

“Save it for the vows, angel.” Crowley interrupted, flushing under the praise. However, he was still smiling brightly even with the light blush. Aziraphale swiped a thumb over his cheekbone before reaching down the grab his free hand in a tight, but not hurtful, grip.

However, that made Aziraphale tilt his head at his now-fiancé. “We can’t have a wedding. Not only —“

“I know, I know.” Crowley rolled his eyes good-naturally. “I was joking, angel.“

“We still could exchange vows.” Aziraphale said softly. “With just the two of us.”

“That sounds great, Aziraphale, but wait.” He tried to hold his free hand up in the air, but it was so tightly gripped by the other being it was hard to move. “We’re planning our wedding —“

“Not a wedding.”

“— before I gave you the rings.”

“Oh.” Azirapahle muttered. “Yes, you should probably do that.”

The angel could tell Crowleys hands were shaking when he grabbed the box from when it had been dropped on the floor in excitement. He seemed to be debating opening it, but then handed it over to Aziraphale to inspect.

“I didn’t bother getting engagement rings, just skipped to the wedding bands. I hope that’s okay.” Crowley said. “I’m not ... entirely sure how all this works. That’s more of an angel thin’, weddings and all that.”

Aziraphale didn’t care that much, and gently opened the box to see the rings. It was simple, smooth and golden, with a small black diamond in the middle. He looked up when Crowley shuffled again, and pulled out an almost identical one from his pocket. Almost identical, save for the jewel, which was white. “It’s uh, kinda of symbolic. I would have the white one and you would have the back one. Semantics, really.”

He beamed. Crowley, no matter how much he denied it, was a sentimental dork. And Aziraphale loved him for it.

“It’s perfect, darling.” He said, feeling as if he would downright melt with joy. “Just perfect for the two of us.”

If snakes could purr, Crowley probably would. However, since they couldn’t, he made a soft humming noise in the back of his throat when Aziraphale leaned up to seal their new engagement with a kiss. When they pulled away, the angel didn’t go far, instead resting his forehead against Crowleys, noses brushing slightly and hands resting on the side of his neck, and grinning brightly.

“I’m guessing this was the ‘important thing’ that made you late today?” He asked. Crowley couldn’t nod in their current position, so he blinked instead.

“Yeah, shop was busier than I expected.” He replied. 

Aziraphale chuckled lightly and pulled back to stare at his new  fiancé . Goodness, it was nice to think about that. The demon was still blushing, pink dusting across high cheekbones, and golden eyes wide with dashed nerves and equally requited love. Because he could, Aziraphale reached forward and grabbed Crowleys left hand where it sat in his lap, enjoying the way the twin rings reflected the dim light of the shop. “I thought it was because of the sushi.”

Crowley outright laughed at that, and Aziraphale kissed him to stop it. However, neither of them stopped smiling for the rest of night, and when they cuddled on the small couch together and Crowley eventually fell asleep against his side, Aziraphale examined his ring closely before tangling his hand in his fiancés hair before, and, curled up around the love of his life, fell asleep for the first time in his long immortal life.

***

_ 2008, August  _

_ (Soho) _

“I don’t see why —“

“Crowley, I’m not letting you called our son ‘the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, Lord of Darkness’ his entire life.” 

Crowley rolled his eyes and glanced down at the baby, who was distracting himself with one of the demons fingers. The boy was making normal baby noises as it rocked gently around in the crib, still swaddled in the pale blankets from the last night. They had miracled a crib so the baby could sleep, since it had been too late to go out and get a new one, but they had decided that they should actually buy all other baby-supplies as to not arise to much suspicion with head office.

That also brought up all the other problems Crowley had refused to think about last night while he was stealing a baby. If any of the demons (or angels, for that matter), found out what they had done, there would be consequences. Maybe even bigger consequence then if they found out their current field agents were married. 

However, if they had hidden things from their head offices before, so they could do it again.

Crowley was startled from his thinking by his husband, who had shuffled out from behind the shelves now holding a large, old book. It took a few moments for Crowley to realize it was a book of baby names. Where, or when, or  why the angel had gotten that, who even knew. *

* Crowley firmly believed that there was probably a book for everything hidden around the shop somewhere. Maybe there was even a parenting book tucked away in a dusty corner.

The angel plopped down on the couch beside him, making the cushions jiggle. “It’s just not practical, Crowley.”

He waved him off, already persuaded. Really, did Aziraphale believed he wanted the kid writing  that on schoolwork? “Yeah, yeah, fine. Bit of a mouthful, anyways.” He leaned over to get a peak at the book in the angels lap. “Any good ones?”

“Yes!” Aziraphale pulled out a small slip of paper nestled in the cover of the book “I already wrote a few down. There’s Damien, Evan, Adam, Thomas ... well, those are my top picks. There’s plenty more.”

Crowley extracted his one hand from the crib and took the list when it was exceeded to him, and frowned. “It’s been less than a day, angel. How’d you get that many?”

“Well, ethereal beings don’t need sleep unless they really want to, and you know I’m not one for  snoozing .” Aziraphale closed the book and set it down on one of the many cluttered desks in the bookshops back room. “However, I was thinking that I might partake in it a bit more when the boy gets older, since most children copy their parents actions, and I don’t wish for him to become an insomniac if he sees me up all night. We could even share a room, you and I, as most couples do.”

The fact that the angel was already thinking about a future of them together with the kid made his heart do weird non-demony things in his chest, so he just nodded quickly. “Yeah, sure. Alright. Sounds good.”

Aziraphale chuckled as his response as Crowley scanned the list and didn’t think about the fact they would be sharing a bed. Most the names on the list he found dull, or overused, but one stood out to him. “Adam’s okay.”

“Really?” Aziraphale leaned around to smile and coo at the baby in the crib, which still gnawed on Crowleys finger, before turning back to his partner. “I would expect you to choose something more ... demonic.”

“Nah.” Crowley looked down at the baby, smiling softly. “He looks like an Adam.”

There was a moment of silence where the two man-shaped beings only stared at their newfound son, before Aziraphale leaned over to peck him on the cheek, still smiling brightly.

“That settles it then.” Aziraphale he said as he pulled back. “Adam Fell. Now we just need a middle name.”

“Why not do why I do *?” Crowley asked.

* It wasn’t till about twenty years ago did Aziraphale finally learn that the ‘J’ in Crowleys full name didn’t actually stand for anything, the demon only added it because he thought it looked cool. The angel had asked him one day what his middle name was, and he had panicked and said ‘Janthony’. Though he had been completely embarrassed and didn’t move off the floor for the entire day, it had now become a sorta of inside joke between them.

“We need to put a full name on school forms, darling.” Aziraphale said. Then, his face contorted in thought. “Crowley.”

“What?”

“No, for Adams middle name.” He paused, unsure of how he would react. “What about Crowley?”

The demon blinked behind his dark glasses. When it look like he wasn’t going to answer, Aziraphale continued on. “Adam Crowley Fell, shortened to C. He’s using my last name, so it’s only fair if he has yours somewhere in there.”

After a moment, Crowley nodded. “Adam C. Fell. I like it.”

The angel grinned, and Crowley smiled back for extracting his hand from the babys toothless mouth to gently poke his stomach before standing up. “You do know we’ll have to get another house, right? He can’t grow up here, or at my place.” 

While both beings loved the bookshop, it was not a suitable place for a child to grow up. Not only was it full to brim with books, so much so there wasn’t even a bedroom for the baby once he got older and needed his own space, there was also the more darker thought of one of Aziraphales colleagues unexpectedly dropping in for a checkup and, well, if they found the Antichrist hanging around ... *

* Crowley’s flat was also off the table for most of the same reasons. While the other demons never made physical appearances, it wasn’t uncommon for them to contact him via radio or television program, and they would be confused if they had to speak through the voice of Dora the Explorer. The other reasons was the complete opposite of the problem they faced in the bookshop — his flat was bland, and sparse, and looked more like an empty space of nothing they a suitable baby home.

He was startled from his thoughts by the angel standing up and and nodding glumly. “Yes, I know. I was doing some research about it last night, too.”

He padded over to the desk and opened the drawer. Crowley rolled his eyes again, and slumped farther in the couch and began to gently push the crib in an effort that would hopefully calm the baby inside, who had began to fuss after having his chew toy revoked. He had no idea if it was working, but the boy went silent once more. “What were you thinking?”

“I have a few ideas I’m sure you  _and_ Adam will like.” Aziraphale said.

At the name of the baby —  _their_ baby, their  _son_ , that they  _named_ — he glanced down at the little one still snug in the crib. Wide baby blues were staring back up at him, soft but tired, and he felt the corners of his mouth twitch up when he looked back at Aziraphale. “Well, go ahead.”

***

_2008, December_

_ (Mayfair) _

Aziraphale had ended up finding a small house in the village of Tadfield, only a quick drive from Soho. Crowley had looked over the listing and done a bit of a research on the village, and decided it was perfect for what they needed — a small village filled with retired humans or young families, a perfect place to blend into and hide.

They got the house the angel had picked out almost as soon as they called, with the realstate agent saying that the only other couple who had called about it (another young family with a baby boy) had just dropped out, saying they found a better house somewhere in the heart of London. Aziraphale refused to comment when Crowley questioned him about it *, which pretty much confirmed he had something to do with it.

* Aziraphale hadn’t kicked them out of their sale, however. In fact, the family found was actually ecstatic, since the father had just gotten a new promotion in London, and, suddenly, a perfect house for his family opened up? It was a miracle. So, really, it turned out well for all of them.

However, moving meant paperwork, which both ethereal beings hated. It also brought up the problem of Adam. According to the government, Adam wasn’t real. Crowley wasn’t entirely sure how the ‘son of Satan’ was convinced, and he really didn’t want to know, and the Nuns hadn’t made any official paperwork to prove the boy’s existence. And that problem also arose a similar one — Crowley and Aziraphale never got married. They exchanged rings, and that was that.

However, Aziraphale, ever the bastard no matter how much he tried to hide it, was able to forge fake marriage and adoption paperwork in case the need ever arose to show proof of their holy (ugh) matrimony or their parental claim to Adam. When Crowley pointed out that  _evilness_ of lying to the government, the angel spluttered and got flustered so much Crowley almost felt the need to apologize for making his face so red.

And with all of that out of the way, the family was free to move to Tadfield. Of course,there was still the normal human paperwork that was involved whenever you switched residents, but he knew Aziraphale would take care of it and probably pull some more award-winning forgery with their names, incomes, and whatever else you needed for moving.

Crowley decided to keep his flat, knowing he still needed a home base to come back too for meetings with Hell. Aziraphale was talking with the human movers * at the bookshop (they were only moving a few items over, everything else was going to be bought new). However, not in the mood to act nice and respectful, Crowley took Adam, grabbed a few unfolded cardboard boxes, left Aziraphale with a kiss on the cheek, and made his way to Mayfair.

* The angel has insisted on  not using miracles to move their things, which Crowley did agree with, not wanting to arise too much suspicion.

He strapped Adam in the back of the Bentley, shoved the cardboard in the seats beside him, and drove calmly to his flat. He went a  tiny bit over the speed limit, just to hear Adam giggle in the backseat, and they arrived at their destination in no time because of it.

He parked the Bentley in its usual spot, patted the steering wheel affectionately, then took Adam, the boxes and a toy for Adam into the building and towards the elevator banks. There was one waiting for him which he stepped into without hesitation. Pressing the button for his floor, he turned to Adam, who watched the elevator doors close and looked around curiously when they began to move.

“It’s just the elevator. That’s how it works.” He said. “It’s alright.”

Adam didn’t respond, since he hadn’t yet learned to make words, but made a series of noises that Crowley counted as something of a reply. “Yes, it’s a bit scary, but we’ll be fine.”

However, just before they reached their floor, the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened again to reveal two humans standing outside in the hallway. It took him a moment to recognize them, but he eventually remembered it was the two kids who lived right under him.

Mya, a university student studying politic science, and her roommate Dane, from what he could recall wasn’t in school but worked a minimum wage job at some café. Mya wore way too many dangly charm bracelets and Dane had dyed blue hair, and one of them played the trumpet, because he had occasionally been interrupted from tending to his plants by squeaky music.

“Oh, hey, Anthony.” Mya greeted as the two stepped inside the elevator. Dane pressed the button for the floor right above Crowleys. “Uh, who’s that?”

She pointed to the baby in his arms. Shyly, the boy looked away and buried his face in Crowley’s shirt. He frowned. “This is Adam.”

“Oh. Cute kid.” She said. The elevator lurched into motion again.

Dane leaned forward to get a better look at the baby, then said in a high-pitched voice. “Hiya Adam. It’s very nice to meet you, yes it is!”

“He’s not a pet.” Crowley said. Dane only leaned back and rolled their eyes, but kept grinning at Adam.

“Sorry, dude.” They said. A few seconds passed, then the elevator stopped once again. This time, it was at the right floor, and Crowley tightened his grip on Adam when the elevator jiggled a bit.

“Well, this is our stop.” He said as the doors opened. “Say bye, Adam.”

Adam did no such thing, only looked at the two young adults with wide eyes. However, both waved goodbye and called out ‘bye bye, Adam!’ when Crowley exited. He was already halfway down the hallway by the time the doors slipped shut and the elevator continued on its journey.

He got to his own flat, awkwardly turned the knob with the hand holding the cardboard, then pushed open the door with his foot. The flat was dark compared to the hallway, but the lights flickered on as he pushed the door shut behind him and continued deeper inside.

“Alright, Adam, this is  _my_ flat. It’s a lot different then the bookshop, as you can see.” He told the boy as they entered the main living space, keeping a steady arm around him. The baby gurgled and reached up to pat him on the cheek. “Yes, I know it’s not much, but look, you have lots of play space.”

That was true, the flat was very empty and spacious. Unlike Aziraphale, Crowley had never been into filling his living space with human inventions, though he had collected a few things over the years. It was also his first time bringing Adam over — there wasn’t any need, besides, the boy was content enough in the bookshop.

He made his way over to the throne * he keep in the main area and sat Adam down in it, making sure he was properly propped up. He was close to reaching the five month mark, and while he was able to sit up on his own for a few moments, Crowley was still fussy and made sure he was solid and wouldn’t toppled over when he pulled back.

The baby made grabby hand motions for him once he put down, but Crowley replaced his hand with the stuffed snake he had brought inside. At the sight of his favourite toy, the boy giggled and gave him a grin with no teeth. He didn’t want to think of the implications of a snake being his sons favourite toy, so he distracted himself with getting the boxes unfolded.

The demon looked around his flat, deciding what to take and to leave. He would leave the throne, whatever was in the kitchen, the things in his bedroom, and the statue of the ‘wrestling’ angel and demon (what Aziraphale would have to say if he tried to put  that in their new home). Other than that, he had a desk, some other small memorabilia from throughout the age, and, most of all, his plants. *

* The house they had picked out did have a large garden, but he was going to bring along his own houseplants. He had put too much work in them to just  leave them in his flat.

“Well, Adam.” He said, and the baby babbled in response. “Lets get started, shall we?”

It didn’t end up talking long to pack away the items he wanted to bring along, all together barley taking up two boxes, even when he emptied out his desk. He sighed, meaning the only things left were his plants and desk, which he could come back for at a later date when he didn’t have Adam *, but for now, he closed the boxes, taped it shut with a roll he found in the kitchen, then stood up with a grin.

* He had only brought Adam along because he knew Aziraphale needed to focus on deciding what to move from the bookshop, and knowing the angel, it would be a long and slow process.

“Come on, Adam.” He told the baby, picking him up from the chair. Crowley settled him in his arms, making sure the snake was secure, then tickled Adams side as he said. “Let’s go see the garden.”

He brought the boy into his garden room, where plants were strung from wall to wall. He had the best plants in all of London, because he wanted them to be. He often ... told his plants encouragement so that they would grow to be bigger and lusher. And when he said ‘told’, he really meant shouted. *

* Aziraphale, ever since he found out about Crowley’s gardening methods, constantly berated the demon for being so mean and rude to his plants, and said that the best way for plants to grow was under love and care. Crowley ignored him.

Usually, at the sight of him and all his demonic glory, the plants would began to quiver in fear. However, they were all currently  very confused when their ‘caretaker’ (a loose term) sauntered into the garden holding a baby. He growled threateningly, which made the plants start shaking — and had the opposite effect on Adam, who giggled.

“Now, come on, Adam, you can’t giggle in here.” He said, words not matching the soft tone in his voice as he gently scolded the baby. “They have to  fear you. Unless it’s demonic giggling. Is that a thing? Maybe. Point is, you have to strike terror into their nonexistent plant hearts. Like this.”

Holding Adam tighter to him to make sure he was secure, Crowley let his glasses slip lower on his nose to reveal golden eyes, and stared at the plants, circling around the room slowly. One fern caught his eye in the corner, and he stalked forward towards it. There was a large spot on one of the leaves, and this particular fern had been driving him crazy lately — droopy, despite all the water and harsh threats he gave it.

“Is that a spot?” He asked quietly, getting close enough the leaf it brushed his nose. Adam giggled and reached out to grab one of the tiny stems. “You know I. HATE. SPOTS!”

However, the effect was servilely ruined still by the fact Adam kept laughing at his pops and breaking the thick atmosphere of the garden. Crowley sighed, and switched his tactic. He pushed his glasses back up his nose with his shoulder, glanced at Adam who was clutching his snake plushie but still quiet, then turned back to the spotted fern.

“If you don’t perk up, maybe I’ll set Adam on you.” He said, bouncing the boy for emphasis. He knew first hand how hard Adam could tug when he got his little hands around something, particularly Crowley’s long hair. *

* Not that he would ever physically hurt his plants, but they didn’t know that.

The plant quivered, but didn’t react to the threat. Frowning, staring at the spot like it had just insulted him, and bore his eyes at it as if he could make it disappear. However, Adam babbled and reached up to pat him on the cheek, making him lean back and shake his head.

“Into the chipper for you.” He said, plucking the offending plant off the shelf. The others around still shook in fear, but he felt relief sweep through them when he marched out of the room, still holding Adam close to his side.

He headed towards the kitchen, where he kept the blender he used to make the noises. Despite his bluster, he never really did kill his plants. Sometimes he left them outside for people to take, or gave them to Aziraphale. Occasionally he kept them in a separate part of his flat. He knew it was undemonic of him, but there was a small part of him that felt bad about killing something just because of a tiny imperfection. There was an even smaller part that whispered that it had something to do with the painful scars all over his heart, but he ignored both of them.

Placing the fern on the counter and getting the blender out, he paused to tap Adam on the nose, making the boy giggle. He smiled to himself and plugged the blender into the wall. However, just as he was about to ‘kill’ the fern, Adam whined in his arms. 

Startled, he looked down and to see the boy reaching for the plant, the snake dropped and forgotten on the ground. Confused, he sat the baby down on the counter so he could get a better view.

“What is it? Are you okay?” Had Adam been scared of him in the garden? A spike of pain went through his heart at that, and he frowned. That hadn’t been what he wanted at all.

However, Adam didn’t seem scared, instead he continued to reach towards the fern. The demon was even more confused, but decided to let Adam do what he wanted. Still keeping a loose grip on his sides, he leaned back so Adam could twist and turn and do whatever he was keen on.

Adam blinked for a second, then babbled and turned enough so that he faced the fern on the counter beside him. Gently, the boy grabbed the leaf with a spot, talking in his own way to the plant, then turned to look up at Crowley with wide eyes and toothless smile.

Crowley frowned harder and glanced between the baby and the fern, not entirely sure what Adam was trying to say. 

“Do you ... not want me to kill it?” He asked, as if the baby would be able to answer. Adam only babbled and patted the spot, and suddenly his throat was very, very tight. He had to swallow thickly before speaking again. “Okay, maybe we can ... keep this one alive. We can bring it to the bookshop. I’m - I’m sure you’re dad would like that.”

He was entirely sure if Adam understood him, but nonetheless he picked him back up into his arms again and spun around a few times, trying to shake off the weird emotion sitting over his head. Adam giggled in his arms and Crowley felt his mood instantly lift as they twirled around the flat.

And if the demon had looked back at the fern, he would have been surprised to see that there, on the plant, the leaf was bright and green without a spot to be seen.

***

_ 2009, January _

_ (Tadfield) _

“Crowley, he’s going to get a cold.”

“Calm down, angel. I’m surprised he can even move with how much you’ve wrapped him up.” Crowley said. “Besides, the cold is caused by a virus, not the air temperature.”

Aziraphale didn’t seem convinced, instead tugging down the hat above Adams ears. The month was starting to end and bleed into the next mushy month, but the angel had still insisted Adam had to be dressed in heavy winter gear. However, the boy didn’t seem deterred, instead babbling at them through his thick scarf. 

It had been a month since they settled into Tadfield, and the house they had picked out was finally finished being furnished and decorated. The last few weeks had been hectic and full of chaos as they argued over where to put the furniture, tried to figure out the best way to decorate, and entertained Adam who wanted in on the process of well. *

* One memory that would be permanently etched into his brain was, after scattering his plants around the house, walking into Adams room to see Aziraphale, holding the boy on his hip, asking the baby on where to put a small lamp. Adam had only giggled and slapped his hands on the dresser, which the angel had taken as an answer.

And while the entire process had been tiring and long, Crowley was happy with the result — since the result was a house he could call his own, which he shared with the two beings he loved the most in the world. Whatever. He wasn’t really a sap, it was just a nice.

However, due to all that, they hadn’t had much time to explore the village they had moved to. Aziraphale had said it was ‘quaint and cute’, like something from a childrens book, while Crowley knew that he could probably have lots of fun doing temptations, minor at that, with all the other residents *.

* They had only met their neighbours so far, all friendly but mostly made up of elderly couples, and Crowley had had plans to annoy all of them, since Aziraphale had told him to ‘play nice’. The only human he had set his sights on was their neighbour directly beside them, who had introduced him as Ronald P. Tyler, and when meeting the family had sneered and Crowley was able to feel the disgust radiating off him.

So, the demon had said ‘let’s go on a walk’, Aziraphale had grinned in a way that  _didn’t_ make his heart do uncomfortable lurches, then the angel wrapped Adam up to his ears in winter gears. Crowley gave mild protest, not really caring since he looked pretty damn cute bundled up (another thing he would deny thinking), then lead the two out of the house and down the sidewalk.

Aziraphale held Adam *, since the snow made it impossible to use the stroller, while Crowley strolled beside him. However, just as they turned the corner of the sidewalk, the angel slipped his hand into Crowleys, and they continued the walking down the street, taking in the little snow-covered village.

* Despite his appearance, Aziraphale was very strong. He had been given a flaming sword, after all, and you can wield that without having some muscle.

They found their way to the main street, which was full of little shops and restaurants, that, despite the weather, was brimming with tourists. He made a mental note to take Aziraphale too one day when Adam was a little bit older and could eat solid food, especially the Chinese place that looked like it was packed.

Somehow, the family made their way to a small park at the end of the street — despite both Aziraphale and Adam getting distracted by shiny things in the window — if you could call it a park, currently. The grass was either buried under patches of snow or mushy with slush, and puddles lined the tarmac pathway. The trees were bare, the playground icy, and the centrepiece lake in the middle was frozen over. Honestly, Crowley was willing to just keep going down the sidewalk, where in the path had already been cleared by the people before them.

“Come on, my dear.” Aziraphale continued on his way into the park, still holding Adam, not seemingly noticing the state of it.

“You sure?” Crowley asked, even when he hurried to walk beside the two again and nearly planting his foot right into an icy puddle. He swerved just in time.

“Of course.” Aziraphale replied. “Adam always loved St. James Park, and I’m sure this one is lovely as well.”

Adam made a noise similar to a cheer in agreement.

He shook his head half-heartedly and reached over to tap Adam on the nose. “Whatever you say, angel, but doesn’t change the fact it’s covered in ice.”

The angel didn’t reply and just lead the way through the winding park. Crowley took his place beside him once more and took in the state of the park. They wouldn’t be letting Adam run around on his own, not if they wanted to spend the evening cleaning up melted water from their new floors, but the boy was having fun just looking around at the new environment. Crowley couldn’t resist reaching over to boop him on the nose, which made him giggle and Aziraphale smile at the two.

They strolled down the path, the only beings on it besides a dark-haired woman coming towards them from the other end of the path. However, just as she walked by, she unfortunately stepped right into a large puddle and she grumbled angrily. “Shit.” She then looked up, hearing their footsteps. “Oh my god, I’m sorry!”

“It’s perfectly alright.” Aziraphale said politely.

“Oh, well, still, sorry.” She repeated, glancing at Adam. “God knows what kids will pick up on.”

“Uh.” It was Crowley who replied, knowing that if Aziraphale answered again he would probably try to strike up conversation. “Okay?”

However, the woman only laughed. “Sorry, that sounds weird. I’m a parent too. My daughter is with a babysitter right now, I just needed to run out and get some groceries.”

“Oh! That’s wonderful.” He said. “This is Adam, I’m Alexander, and my partner Anthony.”

The woman smiled. “Alice.”

Crowley bit back a sigh, knowing they would be there for a long time now. Aziraphale somehow maneuvered Adam so he had a hand free to shake Alices. The woman smiled friendly at the two of them, shoving her hands back in her pockets. “Are you guys new here? I haven’t seen you around before, and for Tadfield, that’s not normal.”

“Oh, yes, we just moved here, from Soho.” Azirapahle replied. “I will say, it’s quite a change.”

Before Alice could say anything else, Adam began squiggling in his arms, annoyed that they were no longer moving. The angel went to console him, however, Crowley had already reached over and grabbed Adam without much fuss.

“You keep chatting, angel.” The demon said. “I’ll keep walking.”

“Oh, yes - of course. Thank you, my dear.” He said. Crowley just tilted his head in acknowledgment and started walking with Adam, who began to calm down now that’s they were moving again. He turned to Alice, who was watching the interaction with unreadable eyes. “Should we sit down?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” She glanced at the bench behind them, which was now dry, and sat down. Azirapahles sat down as well, stiff and proper as always, but Alice didn’t seem to notice. If she did, she didn’t care. After a moment, she said. “It’s nice to meet some other ... unconventional parents in Tadfield.”

“Oh?” Aziraphale asked. “What do you mean at that?”

“Well, lets just say some people in Tadfield have some ... old-fashioned views on what families are.” She explained, drumming her fingers on the wooden seat. “They don’t really care for a woman raising her daughter alone.”

Aziraphale recalled their new elderly neighbour Crowley had mentioned. Of course, since both him and his partner were currently presenting as males, they weren’t strangers to some humans unfortunate views on what relationships they believed to be right and wrong. It made him incredibly frustrated, being a being made of love, knowing that all love should be prized and treasured. It made him wonder about how Alice ended up as a single mother, however, he knew better than to ask, so he just smiled sadly and nodded. “Of course. It’s ... hurtful when people don’t accept who you are.”

“Yeah.” Alice agreed softly. *

* Alice really had no idea why she had accepted this man’s offer to sit and talk about topics that usually made her heart sting, but Alexander had a ... trusting vibe to him, with his kind eyes and soft face, so she found she didn’t feel unsafe at all. 

“Well, it  _is_ nice to know there are some other parents with young children here.” Aziraphale said, trying to lighten the mood. “Most of the other residents on our street are lovey retired couples, and I was worried there wouldn’t be any other kids Adams age.”

“Well, my daughter looks only a few months older than your son.” Alice said. “And I know some other couples with kids the same age. We meet-up every so often.”

“How wonderful.” Azirapahle said. If it was anyone else saying it, it would sound sarcastic, but somehow the angel made it sound genuine.

The woman, however, had a small turmoil going on her head. On one hand, she realized it was odd mentioning a parent meet-up to another parent without inviting them, even though she didn’t know said parent that well. On the other hand, Alexander was friendly and seemed trustworthy, and such ...

“Would you and your family  _like_ to join me and some of the other Tadfield parents for a meet-up one day?” Alice asked. “We bring our kids along to develop social skills and things, and we all talk and eat biscuits.”

“That sounds lovely.” Aziraphale said, smiling. “Anthony and I don’t know any other parents here, yet.”

He looked out around the park and found Crowley and Adam by a small lake, pointing at the shiny ice. The demon said something that made the boy in his arms laugh and clap his hands, and Aziraphale smile went soft before turning back to Alice, who had taken out her phone and was scrolling through her contacts.

“Here, type your number in.” She said, handing it over. “I can text you the details.”

Aziraphale took it, slightly awkward — he didn’t have a mobile phone, he left technology mostly to Crowley — but managed to type Crowley’s number into the phone before handing back over. “I don’t have a phone, so I gave you my husbands, if that’s okay.”

“Perfectly alright.” She slipped her phone back into her pocket, then stood up from the bench. “I should probably get going, still have errands to run, but I’ll see you later, hopefully.”

“Yes, hopefully.” Aziraphale replied. “Have a good day.”

He waved goodbye to Alice as she left down the park path, made sure she  did actually have a great rest of her day, then got up and made his way over to Crowley and Adam.

“Hey, angel, finished chit-chatting?” The demon asked as he approached. Adam, done trying to squirm his way onto the ice, screamed joyfully and reached for Aziraphale. The angel took the baby into his arms when his husband held him out to him.

“Yes, dear, we just got invited to join some other parents for biscuits.” He said with a smile, gently flicking the pompom on top of Adams hat. Crowley rolled his eyes. “And I gave her your phone number.”

“Of course you did.” Crowley started walking again, and Aziraphale padded after him, holding Adam closer when the boy lurched towards a nearby bird. “You need to get your own phone.”

“I have a phone in the bookshop.” The angel retorted.

Crowley corrected. “A  _mobile_ phone, something made in the 21st century.”

He rolled his eyes. “You were always the more techy one then me, dear. I can never make heads or tails of those things.”

It was Crowleys turn to roll his eyes, but he was hiding an amused grin at Aziraphales stubbornness. Who knew that trait could be applied to an angel. “I could help you, you know.”

They continued lightly arguing the rest of the walk, and it ended the way the conversation of Aziraphale getting a new phone always did — the angel refusing, insisting that the one at the shop worked fine enough for how much he used it, and Crowley finally submitting, knowing the argument would keep going for as long as there was a sun in the sky if he didn’t stop it, with vows to try again in a few months. 

Adam tried to contributing to the conversation by babbling incoherently, but both beings insisted he was on their side. Really, he was just trying to tell them he saw someone walking a dog and he thought that was really cool and that they should see it too.

***

_ 2009, February  _

_ (Tadfield) _

It ended up being almost a month before Alice contacted them about meeting up, but once she had texted Crowley about a ‘play date’ between the kids and adults Aziraphale made him rsvp immediately. Grumbling, the demon did so, then started looking up cake recipes.

Baking and cooking were entirely different things — baking was fixed and structural, while cooking had a lot more wiggle room in the recipe — so, while the angel was horrible at cooking, he was alright at baking and was getting better with practice. Knowing the angel, he would insist on bringing on some sort of treat as a greeting. And, of course, the demon ended up being right.

“She didn’t ask you to bring anything.” Crowley told his husband from the kitchen table, spoon-feeding Adam applesauce.

“I know, but I wish to do something nice for them.” Aziraphale said primly.

“Yeah, yeah.” He replied. “Can you pause me a napkin? Adam got applesauce all over his chin.”

The boy in question just giggled like he hadn’t made a mess of his face.

That’s how they ended up standing outside Alices small house, Aziraphale holding a platter of angel food cake and rapping on the door. Crowley held Adam in his arms, the boy oddly silent as they heard footsteps from inside and the door opened, revealing Alice, looking just like she did a month ago.

“Hello!” Aziraphale greeted brightly. Crowley didn’t say anything, to preoccupied with making sure Adam didn’t squirm out of his grip. Alice looked surprised for split-second, then grinned.

“Oh, you brought cake.” Alice said, seeing the plate in Aziraphales hands. 

“Yes, I wanted to bring something nice to thank you for inviting us.” The angel said with a smile bright enough to make flowers grow. Alice smiled back and took the cake from his hands, placing it on the table inside.

“Thanks.” She replied. “Everyone else is in the living room, come on in.”

She lead them to the modernly-decorated living room, where there was two couples with babies on their laps sitting on the couch. One couple, both the husband and wife had glasses, was holding two kids. One looked exactly like them, with pale skin and light hair, but the other one had bushy hair like Alice, so Crowley assumed it was her daughter.

“This is Matthew and Patricia, and their son Jeremy, and Edward and Margaret, and their son Brian.” Alice said, gesturing to the two couples on the couch. “Everyone, this is Alexander and Anthony, and their son Adam.”

Their was a chorus of ‘hello’ and ‘nice to meet you’. Adam made some of his own noises that translated to a greeting in baby language, and the other children present also made noises in response. Alice padded over to grab the bushy haired child from Matthew and Patricia. “And this is my daughter, Pepper.”

“It’s very nice to meet all of you.” Aziraphale greeted, always the more social one of the two. 

Alice took a seat in a vacant chair before gesturing to a loveseat at the side of the room. “Please, have a seat. It would be kinda of rude if we just left you all standing there.”

The angel and demon did as instructed, Crowley settling with Adam on his lap. The boy was quiet, as he usually was when around new people, but he stared out at the other adults with wide eyes. Crowley poked his side to head him giggle lightly.

“So, Alexander, Anthony.” Patricia started the conversation, making the couple look at her. “Why’d you move to Tadfield?”

“We wanted somewhere nice to raise Adam, and Tadfield is the perfect place.” Aziraphale said brightly. “We use to live in Soho, and I own a bookshop there.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” Margret said. “I’d like reading. In fact, I just finished this one book —“

Aziraphale began chatting with the other parents, and Crowley let it fade into the background as he bounced Adam on his knee to distract him. Aziraphale was always better with small talk among humans, anyways — you had to be, when you owned a shop — but he did keep one ear open on the conversation and made the appropriate noises whenever Aziraphale said something that needed agreeing with.

He eventually lost time of how long they sat there, Aziraphale talking and Crowley entertaining Adam so he didn’t get bored, and it wasn’t until he heard shuffling from one of the humans did he finally tune back into the conversation.

“I think the babies are getting restless.” Edward, he reminded himself, had spoken up. “Alice, where’d you keep your toys?”

“Here, I’ll show you.” She replied, standing up with Pepper. “How about one part of the couples take the kids to the playroom? If they don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Matthew stood up as well, taking Jeremey from his wife lap. “I’m getting stiff sittin’ here anyways.”

Edward grabbed his own son, not before Margaret pressed kisses on the babies and to make him giggle. The two men then started to follow Alice out of the living room, and Aziraphale leaned over to grab Adam to leave as well. However, Crowley shook his head and maneuvered Adam so he was holding him instead of sitting him in his knee.

“You stay here, angel.” Crowley told his partner. “I’ll take Adam.”

“Thank you, my dear.” He replied. The demon stood to follow the other humans down to the basement, and Aziraphale planted a kiss on the top of Adams head before letting his partner leave.

Crowley padded after the other parents to the basement, where the sitting room had been converted into a play area. There was a small TV, a couch, and lots of different types of toys scattered about. Alice, Edward and Matthew sat down on the ground immediately and set their children down as well. Crowley hesitated, but Adam began fussing so he sat down besides the others.

“There’s some dolls and blocks and things.” Alice said when they were all seated. “I don’t know what your kids like to play with, but I’m sure there’s something around here.”

“Youngster likes anything.” Matthew said, lightly poking the boy in the side and making him giggle once more.

The woman started to pull out drawers of assorted baby toys, and spread them out of the kids to choose from. It only took a few moments before the four children were pleasantly distracted from their earlier boredom with the toys. The adults, meanwhile, sat around to make sure the children were settled.

After a few minutes without any worrisome instances, Alice shuffled and turned to him. “Do you mind watching Pepper for me? I think I’m gonna go get the food ready.”

“Sure.” Crowley replied. The woman smiled and stood up, giving her daughter a goodbye kiss on the head. He wasn’t entirely sure how old the other kids were, only that they were all under one year but still a few months older than Adam.

Pepper disappeared upstairs, leaving the two adult, four babies and one demon. The other men were distracted with their own children, so Crowley made sure the two he were watching were content. Adam had picked up wooden blocks and began ‘playing’ * with it, while Pepper had grabbed a barbie doll and began to slowly press it against her mouth.

* More just holding it in his hand while looking around then actually playing.

“No, Pepper,  _don’t_ bite that.” He said, grabbing the barbie before the girl could stick the head in her mouth. It was too big to choke on, but he doubted Alice, or Pepper herself, would appreciate spitty stringy doll hair everywhere.

The girl, instead, dropped the doll and grabbed blocks instead. Once again occupied, the humans in the room exchanged glances, before turning to Crowley.

“So, Anthony, what do you do for a living?” Edward asked. 

He waved his hand around. “Assorted jobs, here and there. Completely random, really. Alexander runs the bookshop, mostly, but I help with that too. *”

* In reality, all bills that found their way to their house mysteriously disappeared, and whatever company had sent them forgot about it.

Surprisingly, the humans took that as an answer. Matthew kept the conversation going. “I own my own shop, too. A garage, mind you, since I’m a mechanic, but it’s cool to meet a fellow business owner.”

“Well, it’s really Alexanders shop.” It felt weird referring to the angel as ‘Alexander’, but he didn’t really think Aziraphale was a normal name for a human. “He’s the one that collected all the books and deals with customers.”

“Maybe me and Mar’ should drive down one day and check it out.” Edward commented. “I mean, I don’t like reading that much. Highschool english took all the fun out of it, y’know? But she loves it, so maybe she’ll find something. We’ve basically gone through every bookstore in town looking for something new.”

“I’m the same way.” Matthew added. “My english teacher was the worst. Assigned us way to many essays.”

Just as it looked like the men were about to ask for Crowleys thoughts on the subject *, there was shuffling noises from upstairs and then footsteps on the stairs. Alice appeared in the doorway just as Crowley heard voices in the kitchen, meaning the adults upstairs had moved over.

* Which would have been difficult to bluff through, seeing Crowley had never even been in a highschool, let alone take a class in one.

“I made some sandwiches before you guys came, if you guys what some. And I have babyfood if any of the tots are hungry.” The woman padded over to pick up her daughter, who whined at being disrupted from her playtime. “It’s almost lunch time for Pepper anyways.”

“I’m sure Youngster is hungry.” Matthew stood up and picked up his son. “And I could eat too.”

Alice smiled as Crowley and Edward also picked up their own sons, with Crowley having to slowly remove the block from Adams grip. “I have lots of options. And after, maybe we can have the cake Alexander and Anthony brought over.”

“You brought cake?” Edward asked jokingly. “What a way to make us all look bad.”

“Thank Alexander for that. I had no say matter.” Crowley said, making the other man laugh.

The three humans and their kids began making their way upstairs, and Crowley turned to Adam, bouncing him lightly on his hip. “Are you hungry, Adam? I’m sure Alice has some applesauce you can make a mess of.”

Adam giggled, which was answer enough. Crowley tapped him on the nose just to make him laugh again before following everyone else upstairs.

***

_ 2014, July _

_ (Tadfield) _

“Adam, can I play with your soldier guy?” 

He handed the doll over to Peppers waiting hand. “Sure.”

It was the summer, which was Adams favourite season of the year. They didn’t have any school *, and their parents let him and his friends get together almost every week. Right now, they were in his backyard, surrounded by his Pops blooming garden playing with the dolls he had gotten for his last birthday. His parents were inside, watching them through the window, and everytime he turned to check they were still there and waved at him.

* He had started school last year, and while all his friends were in his class and he was delighted to play with them all day, he also didn’t like being away from his parents for so long or the fact that some of the other kids tried to take his toys when he brought them one day.

The toys had been a set of girl and boy ones, with tons of different outfits to dress them up in. Adam didn’t really have a preference for any of the dolls, so he let his friends choose what to play with. Brian and Wensleydale has taken the parent and children dolls — Brian got parents, and Wensleydale the kids — while Pepper had been playing with one of the female dolls.

Adam watched as Pepper started to take the solider clothes off the doll he gave her. “What’a you doing?” 

“I want the girl to be the soldier, and she’s gonna save the boy from the dragon.” Pepper stated. The dragon was one of Brians toys he brought over, and it was currently lying discarded in the grass. 

“Alright.” He said. He went to grab the doll he had been previously playing with (a teacher, who taught the kids Wensleydale controlled) when Brian leaned over to peer at the toy Pepper was holding. 

“Those clothes aren’t going to fit.” He said. “They’re for a boy toy.”

“Oh.” Pepper paused momentarily, then shrugged. “Oh well. I can use them anyways.”

She was struggling to get the shirt off the arms, so Wensleydale grabbed the girl doll Pepper had been previously playing with, squinting through his newly-acquired glasses (they were normal glasses to help him see better, not like his Pops sunglasses) at the back. “Adam, why does this toy have a hole in it?”

“You can put wings on that one.” He said, grabbing the plastic fairy wings from his toy bin he had brought outside. “Cus’ it’s a fairy one. It attaches like this.”

He took the toy from Wensleydale and clipped the wings on, then held it up for his friends to suspect. The sun caught in the pink plastic and made funny patterns on their faces when they leaned forward to get a better looked. Gently, Brian reached forward to touch it, but pushed too hard and the wing fell off. “Oh, sorry!”

“No, it’s fine.” Adam said, handing the toy back to Pepper. “They can’t wear the wings without the fairy outfits, since the other clothes don’t have holes in them. And Pepper wants the soldier outfit.”

“I wished I had wings.” Wensleydale said wistfully, picking at a loose thread on one of the children doll clothes. Adam had to agree with him — ever since he had seen his parents wings and knew what they were, he had wanted a pair of his own to match.

“That would be cool!” Brian exclaimed. “Then you could fly.”

Adam tilted his head. “My parents have wings.” 

“No they don’t.” Pepper replied, finally getting the clothes free from the boy doll and starting to dress the girl doll up. “Only birds have wings.”

“What about pegasisss?” Wensleydale asked, accidentally messing up the pronunciation.

“My sister says they aren’t real.” Brian said smartly.

“No, they’re real.” His parents had told so. Unicorns had also been real, at some point, but his Dad had said they were ‘extinct’ which means they didn’t exist anymore. Same with pegasus’. “My parents wings do too. They’re feathered, and my Dads are white and my Pops are black.”

Pepper glared at him. “That’s not true, Adam. People don’t have wings.”

Adam was about to tell her that his parents did have wings, he had seen them and even had a few feathers under his bed to prove it, but was interrupted by the door to the house opening with a squeaky creak and his dad stepping out, smiling broadly.

“Kids, lunch is ready.” He said. “Clean your toys up and come inside.”

“Yay!” Brian cheered. They all started dumping the dolls in the toy bin, excited at the prospect of food, and Pepper turned to his dad.

“My mom and me are vegan.” She told him. “It means we can’t eat animal products.”

His dad chuckled, blue eyes twinkling. “Don’t worry, Pepper, you sandwich is vegan, and I gave you the food your mother packed for you as well.”

She nodded, then started to help clean up as well. Argument about wings forgotten, the four children finished tidying up and ran towards the house, chattering excitedly about what type of sandwich they hoped they got. 

Aziraphale watched the kids rush inside towards where Crowley waited in the kitchen, then looked out onto the yard and sighed. The plastic wings hadn’t been cleaned up, so flat it had been missed in the tall grass, so he pattered over to pick it up and dump it in the bin. He stared at it, laying on top with the sun reflecting on the pink plastic, before bustling back inside.

***

“My friends say people don’t have wings.”

Crowley and Aziraphale looked up at Adam from across the dinner table. The boys friends had long since went home, and now the sun was starting to set, casting a golden glow around the entire village. It was Crowley who spoke up first, tilting his head at the young five-year-old. “What do you mean, Adam?”

Adam pushed around his mashed potatoes on his plate, frowning. “I told my friends today that you guys had wings and they didn’t believe me. Pepper said people don’t have wings, only birds do.” 

His parents exchanged uneasy glances, seemingly having an entire conversation with their eyes, before his dad finally set his utensils down to look him in the eye.

“They are right, dear.” Aziraphale said softly. “People don’t have wings.”

“You guys do.” Adam replied.

“That’s because —“ Crowley tried to answer, but found it hard to speak. “Adam, you do know that me and your dad aren’t - like other people’s parents, right?”

“Yes, I know that.” Adam replied. ”Kids at school already telled * me. You are both boys, and most people have a boy parent and a girl parent.” He thought of Wensleydale and Brian earlier, with their doll family. They were the only two with a mom and dad — Adam had two dads, and Pepper only had her mom.

* Despite being well-read and -spoken from Aziraphale, Adam still made small grammatical errors. The angel usually corrected him, but was so wrapped up in the conversation he didn’t notice.

“Oh.” His pops said. “Are they mean about it?”

“Well, Johnson * was.” He shrugged. “But Miss Ponder ** told him that everyones families looked different and that we should be nice about our differences.”

* James Johnson, or ‘Greasy Johnson’ as Adam and his friends called him, was the local playground bully who didn’t like Adam since the first day when he proudly told the class about his two fathers. He made snarky and snippy remarks about his parents and stole his toys, in retaliation, Adam put glue in his hair.

** Miss Ponder was his teacher, a kind middle-aged lady with curly brown hair who always wore colourful dresses. Adam liked her, a lot, since she read the class cool fantasy books and let them sit with their friends as long as they were good, which Adam was, expect for when he was around Greasy Johnson, but he sat on the opposite side of the classroom of them so they didn’t interact that much during classtime.

“It’s very good she is teaching you all that.” Aziraphale said. “But Adam, me and your pops aren’t  _like_ other parents, not just because we’re both boys.”

“How?” Adam asked.

“Well, we have wings. You’ve seen them.” Crowley gestured to his shoulder. “And you’ve seen my eyes, and when I turn into a snake.”

Adam nodded in understanding. He had known about his parents unusual features since he was a baby — they really had no reason to hide it from him, they argued *— but he still was confused, regardless. “Why?”

* Which was now coming to bite them in the ass.

Aziraphale smiled and reached forward to place a hand on his. “That’s a story for another day. However, my dear boy,” his smile fell and Adam swallowed. “You have to keep our wings and your pops snake features a secret, alright?”

“Like a spy.” Crowley added, hopefully able to get it across to the boy. “Can you do that for us?”

Adam nodded vigorously, starting to smile again. Yeah, he could do that. It would be simple, and he would be just like a spy in the movies his pops showed him. “Yeah I can.”

Both of his parents leaned back in their chairs, biting back sighes of relief. Aziraphale smiled broadly at him. “Thank you, Adam.”

Not entirely sure what he was being thanked for, Adam smiled back. “You’re welcome.”

Crowley watched the interaction with fond eyes, before reached over to tap Adam on the forehead to get his attention back. “Now eat up, your food is getting cold.”

***

_ 2014, December _

_ (Soho) _

Adam liked the bookshop.

It was always cozy inside, filled with soft chairs and old books, and in the colder months of the year a fire would start in the old fireplace in the back and, sometimes, he would make hot cocoa, and cuddled on a chair with a blanket while his dad read out loud to him and his pops while snow fell outside.

Today was not one of those days, however. His pops was off working and wouldn’t be there until in the next morning, so it was just him and dad in the bookshop for the evening. They were only there since it was Christmas break and Adam was off from school, and he couldn’t be left home alone *, so Aziraphale had brought him up to Soho and let him stay the day in the bookshop alongside him.

* He was only eight years old, and while he argued that was old enough to stay home by himself all day, his parents disagreed. 

Of course, because of the weather and how close it was to Christmas Day, the only people who came in were the types frantically looking for a last minute gift. When they came in, Adam would peer out from the backroom and watch as his dad persuaded the person to go elsewhere to find a gift and gave them a list of places still open that you will ‘surely find a present for your wife, sir’. Despite being denied a purchase, most people thanked him and left the shop without a fuss.

However, as the sun dipped lower below the horizon and was eventually whited outby clouds and snowflakes, Aziraphale flipped the sign on the door to ‘closed’ and turned to smile at Adam when he pattered out from the backroom, where he had stayed the majority of the day either reading or playing with his toys he had brought up.

“Since it’s just us now, my dear boy, would you like some hot cocoa?” The angel asked. “I’ve had a craving all day, and this seems like the perfect time.”

Adam nodded vigorously. “Yeah, please.”

Aziraphale chuckled at his enthusiasm and headed upstairs to the flat above the shop to start on the drinks. Adam followed after a moment, footsteps soft on the creaky stairs, and padded after him into the old kitchen. The applicants hadn’t been updated for years, and the only thing vaguely modern was the fridge, and  that was only because the old from had finally broke a few years ago. *

* Of course, they could have miracled it back into working order, but Crowley said it was the perfect opportunity to finally update something in the kitchen, which he had been haggling Aziraphale over for years. 

It only took a few minutes for the cups to be made as Aziraphale asked Adam about what chapter he just finished in his book and what game he had been playing on his Nintendo DS *. Eventually, the angel finished and handed a mug to the boy, who immediately tried to take a sip and, promptly, burned his mouth.

* A gift from Crowley last Christmas, and this Christmas the two had done the research to get more games for Adam. While Aziraphale didn’t understand it at all, he was sure the boy was going to love them.

The two made their way back downstairs again, since it was the only place with a clear sitting area, and the angel watched as Adam carefully set his mug down on the table beside the couch after taking a much cooler sip. Aziraphale smiled at the care Adam did his actions with. When the boy had been old enough, he had given him a strict warning about food and liquid around the books. Ever since, Adam was always careful with where he put his snacks and drinks.

“Thank you, Adam.” He said, making the boy flash him a soft grin. 

He sat down at the opposite end and set his mug down as well. Adam grabbed his book from where he was left it on the side table, and Aziraphale was prepared to go and get his own reading material when the boy gently leaned over to tug on the cuff of his sleeve. 

He turned to the boy. “What is it, Adam?”

“Can you read to me?” He asked shyly, fidgeting with the cover of his book. That particular book was a gift from his friends from his last birthday, his first full-length chapter book, and they often switched between his parents reading it and trying the chapters out on his own.

Aziraphale smiled. “Of course, Adam. Come here.”

He patted the seat next to him on the couch, and Adam immediately scrambled across the cushions to lean against him. Aziraphale took the book from him —  _Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone_ — as Adam smushed himself up against his side, head coming to rest on his shoulder and hands clutching at his jacket sleeve.

As his dad turned to the marked chapter and began reading, Adam tried to pay attention to the words on the page and the voice drifting through his ears. However, he felt warm and content, using his dad as a pillow and listening to him read, and so his eyes slowly began to drift shut and he slumped more loosely around his dad.

Adam was just about to let sleep take him when the tranquil environment was shattered by heavy thumping in the bookshop and a deep voice calling out from in shelves. “Aziraphale!” 

Both beings jumped at the noise, but while Adam was rudely awoken and thus still a bit fuzzy headed, Aziraphale recognized the voice instantly and dropped the book to the ground to grab Adam in a tight grip. 

“What —“ Adam started, confused, but Aziraphale pressed a hand on Adams mouth, effectively stopping him from making any noise. The boy tried to ask again who was in the bookshop, and why his dad looked like he just saw a ghost, but was blocked again by his hand.

To Aziraphale, the only thought currently going through his head was ‘ oh, no’  at increasingly louder intervals. He looked around the backroom widely when he heard footsteps in the front half of the shop, and spotted a desk deeper in the shop, covered with books. 

He leaned close to whisper to Adam. “Adam, you need to go hide behind that desk over there. Do you see it?”

Adam nodded, since his hand was still clamped tightly over his mouth. “Okay, go quickly, but don’t make any noise or move once you’re there. Not a peep. You understand?”

Adam nodded again as another ring of ‘Aziraphale, where are you?’ echoed across the bookshelves. Aziraphale nodded back, then let go of the boys face so he could slowly slide off the couch and make his way quietly across the backroom towards the desk. The angel, however, wasn’t able to watch to make sure he got to the hiding place before there were footsteps just outside and he stood up and rushed into the main shop and nearly ran into the archangel Gabriel.

“Oh - oh, hello Gabriel! What brings you down here to - today?” He stammered. Gabriel arched an eyebrow.

“Hello, Aziraphale. What were you doing back there?” He asked.

He gulped. “Just reading, of course. I’m sorry I didn’t answer sooner, I was reading a particularly good book and didn’t hear you arrive. I uh, wasn’t expecting a visit so soon, however.”

“Hmm, of course.” Gabriel hummed, but he still looked suspicious. “I just wanted to drop in one last time before the holidays. Y’know, since it’s such an important time for Heaven.”

Aziraphale nodded. “Yes, very important. I’ve started to participate in some human Christmas traditions, myself, to blend in down here. Did you know that gingerbread —“

“Yes, I hope you haven’t forgotten about the list of miracles I sent down for you, however.” Gabriel interrupted. He had turned around and started walking around the shop, running his hand along the book spines. “It’s ... wonderful * that you’ve started to follow human traditions, but you still have a duty to us, remember.”

* He really meant ‘weird’ and ‘a little bit revolting’. Aziraphale knew that, but tried to pretend otherwise.

“Of - of course I remember!” Azirpahale exclaimed. “I’ve gotten all the miracles done, just in time for the holidays.” 

“And there wasn’t any problems? Heard anything from the  demon ?”

The demon he was talking about, of course, was Crowley. Gabriel somehow always managed to sound distasteful when speaking about him, even if he never said his name. Aziraphale shook his head, thinking of Crowley off on his own orders, which reminded him of Adam still hiding in the backroom. “No trouble at all. I haven’t seen — the demon for a few years now.”

The other angel hummed. “Good. Can’t have anyone from the other side mucking about this close to Christmas, can’t we?”

It took a moment for Aziraphale to realize it wasn’t a rhetorical question, and then he stammered. “No - no, of course not.”

There was a small lapse of awkward silence. Gabriel finally stopped in his slow pacing and turned to stare at Aziraphale with startling eyes. “Well, if everything is in order, I should be getting back.”

“Yes, of course. I assume you’re busy up in Heaven.” He said, an invisible weight being lifted off his shoulders as soon as the archangel suggested his leave.

“Well, yes,  _obviously_ .” Gabriel waved his hand in a ‘brushing off’ movement. “Be thankful you’re down here, Aziraphale.”

“Of course. Very thankful.” He said, more of a mutter to himself then a reply to Gabriel. However, finally, he looked up and smiled at the archangel, who had turned to full stare at him. “Well, a very happy holidays to you, Gabriel.” 

However, the archangel was already gone, not even bothering with leaving through the front door. Aziraphale sighed and clutched his hands together so hard they hurt, not even realizing he was shaking until he had to lean his head against one of the bookshelves for support. 

That had been a close call. He hadn’t even had time to hide his ring (luckily, he was able to just hide it by holding his hands together), or get Adam upstairs where he knew Gabriel wouldn’t go. If the archangel had found something he could link to Crowley, everything they had built, their  family —

He shook his head, dislodging the ugly thoughts trying to take root. Yes, something could have happened, but nothing had. However, he wasn’t able to stop his trembling, thinking of his son still hiding behind the desk. On unsteady legs, he walked back into in the backroom and swallowed nervously.

“You can come out now, Adam.” He announced shakily. 

There was a creak of wood as Adam popped his head up from under the desk, nose barley making it over the edge of all the books stacked on top. Aziraphale smiled at him, hopefully warmly, but the boy stepped out from around the desk frowning deeply at his dad.

“Who was that?” 

“Oh, that was just - that was just my boss, Gabriel.” He answered as Adam slowly shuffled forward towards him. “I’m sorry you had to hide, Adam, but, well ...” He trailed off when Adam looked up at him with wide eyes, and he swallowed. “Gabriel doesn’t know that me and your pops adopted you, and he wouldn’t be happy if he found out.”

Adam picked up the book discarded on the ground, gaze lingering on the cover for a moment before glancing up at his father. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I am, dear.” He said, brushing his thumb over the worried creases on Adams forehead. He sighed and leaned down to kiss his hairline, an action soothing to both of them. “Worried, that’s all, when Gabriel came in, but I’m better now. I just need to call your pops.”

Adam nodded and sat down on the couch next to the discarded mugs of cold cocoa, placing the book down beside the cups, as Aziraphale made his way to the old phone attached to the wall by the front desk.

Crowley was, rightfully, upset. It took a few minutes of reassurance from Aziraphale to stop the demon from turning his car around and coming back to the bookshop to make sure they were both okay and Gabriel wasn’t coming back. Eventually, Aziraphale managed to convince him to continue with his job just as Crowley arrived at the spot he was suppose to make his temptation. He sent a glance towards Adam, who was sitting patiently on the couch, before saying he should go and let Crowley get on with his work.

“ _Are you sure, angel? I can stay on the phone longer, if you want_ .” Crowley said, voice slightly crackled through the phoneline.

“No, no, I’m fine, my dear, I already told you so.” He replied. “Everything is alright here.”

“ _If you say so_ .” Crowley said. He could hear the small ‘taptaptap’ of the demon drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “ _I’ll see you tomorrow, then?_ ”

“Tomorrow.” He confirmed. “Goodbye, Crowley. I love you.” He then held the phone to his shoulder and waved Adam over. “Adam, come say goodbye to your pops.”

Adam didn’t need to be told twice, as he was already half way across the room by the time Aziraphale held the phone down to his level. The boy leaned close to the speaker and said cheerfully. “Bye, pops! I love you!”

Crowley chuckled, the sound clear despite the quality of the phone. “ _Love you guys too. Bye_ .”

The line clicked off and went dead, so Aziraphale hung it back up on the wall and smiled down at his son. However, as soon as the phone was hung up, Adam had dropped his smile and grabbed the cuff of his sleeve and was gently tugging him away.

“What is it, Adam?” He asked, getting worried once more.

“Come on.” Was all the boy answered with, but the angel obeyed anyways and let Adam lead him towards the backroom. He sat down when Adam did, and only watched as he grabbed the forgotten book on the table before shuffling closer so he leaned up against his side. Aziraphale automatically lifted his arm for him to cuddle underneath before running a hand through his curls.

“I’m gonna read to you.” Adam said just as he was about to ask what was going on. “Like how you read to me and pops. You can sit beside me.”

Aziraphale felt his heart melt at the words, and sat down when he was told. “That’s lovely, dear. Thank you.”

Adam ended up curling into his side again while Aziraphale held the book, and even though the angel had to help him on the more difficult or longer words, Adam managed to read an entire chapter himself. Aziraphale praised him and kissed his forehead at the end, and let the boy flip to the next page.

***

_ 2016, March _

_ (Tadfield) _

“Are you guys mad?”

There was silence from his parents in the front seat, then his Pops sighing angrily. “No, Adam.”

“You sound mad.”

His dad shook his head. “We’re just ... confused, Adam. This isn’t like you.”

Adam pulled his knees up to his chest, not even caring if he got dirt on the seat, and avoided his parents hard gazes without saying anything. His face was still stinging from his classmates punches, and his knuckles were sore as well. Fortunately, the school nurse said there wouldn’t be any permanent damage *, but it still hurt.

* Luckily, seven-year-olds punches weren’t that strong.

When the boy didn’t say anything, both his parents exchanged unreadable looks before Aziraphale shifted so he was half-turned in the front passenger seat and looking at his son in the back.The boy curled in more on himself until the angel reached out to place a soft hand on his knee.

“Adam, we already told you, we’re not angry at you. Not even disappointed.” His Dad said calmly. “We’re just puzzled as to how this could happen.”

“You’re not an aggressive kid, Adam.” He said. “Well, maybe when you’re grounded *, but that’s a bit expected.”

* Adam was only grounded once in a blue moon, so when he was restricted from watching TV or hanging out with his friends, he made his title of the Antichrist well deserved.

The quip made the corner of his lips turn up, but knowing that his parents still expected an answer, he frowned once more.

He wouldn’t be able to lie and say the other kids threw the first punch, since that had already been disproven in the principal office. Besides, while his Dad could believe him if he tried hard enough, his Pops would be able to see right through him. However, the other boy still technically started it, and since Adam knew they wouldn’t be leaving the school parking lot until he gave them answers, he mumbled. “Greasy Johnson started it.”

“Is that what you call that James boy?” Aziraphale asked. He nodded.

“What do you mean ‘he started it’.” Crowley butted in, not unkindly but in the tone of a parent who knew something was amiss. “Everyone else said you hit him first.”

He shuffled in his seat, unconsciously rubbing his hand. “I  _did_ . But he kept saying mean things and spurring me on.”

Both of his parents were silent, stewing over the words, before his Pops finally spoke up. “What kind of things, Adam?”

It took him a moment to answer, getting angry again just thinking about what Greasy Johnson has said, but he did finally answer. “He - he said it was gross and wrong that I had two dads instead of a mom and a dad. And he said I would turn out terrible because of you guys, and then he insulted my friends for hanging out with me and said they were disgusting too.”

“Oh,  dear .” Aziraphale said sadly, awkwardly trying to reach through the car seats to grab Adams hand but unable to reach, so he settled for rubbing soothing circles on his knee instead.

Both beings were use to scorn and insults thrown their way for their ...  lifestyle , but they did their best to shield Adam from humanity’s bad side. Unfortunately, some children got poisoned by their parents views and felt the need to inflict it upon others. Of course Adam had wanted to defend his family and friends honour the first time he heard someone insult them for just being them.

However, what Aziraphale and Crowley had been more worried about, when they got the phone call that Adam had been in a fight at school, was that being in such an adrenaline-pounding environment (even if it was a simple schoolyard scuffle) would prematurely unlocked his powers. Luckily, nothing had happened, but they  had noticed James and his gang were more injured then Adam and his friends *, and that the latters injuries were already starting to heal.

* Pepper, Wensleydale and Brian had also been in the fight, having immediately jumped to Adams defence as he had ‘clocked’ (term used loosely) Greasy Johnson across the nose at recess, but they had gave and took far less damage then Adam. Their parents had also been rightfully upset, and the group would most likely be banned from seeing eachother for a few weeks.

“That’s - it’s alright that you felt the need to defend your friends and - and us, Adam.” Crowley said. “But it wasn’t okay to hit that kid.”

“He deserved it.” Adam shot back.

“Yes, dear, he doesn’t seem like a very nice boy.” Aziraphale replied. “But there is never a reason for violence.”

“Correction, violence should be a  _last resort_ .” Crowley shot in. “But the point your dad is trying to make is that there are other options instead of fighting. You could just walk away, or try telling a teacher. Or you could always try using words instead. And you should have a lot of them, with all the reading your dad makes you do.”

“It’s good for children to have a wide reading palette, Crowley.” The angel replied. Adam stifled his smile at the silly argument *.

* His parents often bickered, and it almost never turned into anything serious, so Adam often just turned it into white noise, though sometimes the argument topics made him giggle with how absurd they were.

However, his pops waved him off and turned around so he fully faced his son. “Next time, before you decide to hit someone, try looking at what else you could do instead. You almost always have a choice in what to do. Do you understand?”

He nodded. “I understand.”

The car lapsed into silence, and it seemed like the conversation was done as Aziraphale began to extract himself away to sit in his normal prim position in the front seat and Crowley started the car, engine rumbling to life in the school parking lot. However, there was still a burning question in his mind, which made him 

“Am I in trouble?” He asked quietly. He had already been punished by his teacher *, but he was anxiously curious to know what his parents would do, even if the conversation prior had been punishment enough.

* Staying inside at recess to help clean the classroom for a week. It sucked, since that was really the only time he got to play with his friends, but he was lucky since Greasy Johnsons parents wanted him suspended for a few days. He thought, privately, that the man was worse then his son.

His parents exchanged looks once more, than sighed in unison. It was his dad who answered. “Most likely, yes. We’ll decide at home.”

“Not harshly, don’t worry, since you were only doing what you thought was right —“

“Crowley —“

They started bickering as the pulled out of the parking lot, and Adam didn’t bother to hide his smile at the fight without heat. Besides, he only ended up being banned from screens for a week, and all of his shows were on hiatus so it didn’t really matter. By the time they sat down to eat dinner, everything was back to normal, with his parents scolding him for eating to fast and bantering about nothing above their food. And as the sun set and the stars came out, Adam had almost forgotten about the fight earlier that day.

(“You do know that you’re not gonna turn out bad for having two dads, right?” His pops whispered as they tucked him into bed. “And your friends are wonderful for hanging out with you.”

“There’s nothing wrong about it.” His dad added quietly, the words seeming to heavy for the dark bedroom.

“I know.” He said back, clutching the cuffs of his parents sleeves in a tight grip, one in each hand. Aziraphale pressed a kiss to his forehead and Crowley ran his free hand through his hair, nothing but softness. “I know.”)

***

  
_October, 2017_

_ (Tadfield) _

“Jingle bells, jingle bells, jinGLE ALL THE WAY ~!”

Aziraphale winced as the singing rose in volume. “My dears, I know you two enjoy Christmas carols, but at  least wait until after Halloween.”

Crowley finally hit ‘pause’ on the music blaring from his phone, winking at the angel from across the table. “Fine, for you.” 

“Aw. Put it back on!” Adam exclaimed.

“When the first snow falls I’ll let you play carols.” Aziraphale said primly. “Until then, no carolling in the house.”

Adam pouted, but didn’t say anything else. He wasn’t  really upset at Christmas carols being banned, as it happened every year in October, but it was always good to keep up appearance. His dad was right, it was still autumn, technically, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy Christmas yet. Besides, his pops usually encouraged the behaviour.

Said parent rolled his eyes, sunglasses discarded in the living room as was always during dinner, and leaned over to elbow Adam in the side to get his attention. “Speaking of Christmas, any ideas what you might like?”

Before he could reply, Azirapahle shook his head. “It is still two months away!”

“And? No point in waiting if he knows what he wants.” Crowley replied. “Besides, you know how quickly the stores fill up, angel.”

The other being only sighed, knowing it was a loosing battle at keeping winter-holiday talk out of a house with a demon and easily-excitable eight-year-old. “Fine. Adam, do you have any idea of what you would like for Christmas?”

The boy shuffled in his seat. “Just one.”

“‘Just one’?” His pops scoffed. “Usually you have a full list by March!”

“Well, its a bit of a big thing.” He replied. 

“Uh oh, this sounds exciting.” Crowley leaned forward on the table, eyes glinting when Aziraphale sighed again. “Well, what is it?”

He shifted again, dinner now completely forgotten on the table *, and glanced up to see his parents expectant, and resigned, faces watching him back. He swallowed and dropped his gaze again, said finally answered quietly. “A dog.”

* As it had originally been when Crowley first started blaring Christmas carols a few minutes ago.

His parents were silent, then Aziraphale sighed. “Adam —“

“I know it’s a lot of work, but I promise I would take care of it! I’d feed it and give it water and take it on walks. I know what to do, I read a book about it at the school library.” He exclaimed before his parents could say anything else. “You know I’m responsible enough, I’ve done all my chores the day I got them for a month!”

“That’s why you’ve been cleaning your room so often?” Crowley asked.

“Adam, we’ve talked about this before.” His dad said before his pops could derail the conversation to household cleaning. “We can’t get a dog.”

“Why not?” He asked, a bit louder than he should have. His dad looked like he was about to tut him, but before he could Adam started again. “I’m sorry. But you - you usually give me a reason when we can’t do something, but everytime I ask for a pet you say no. Especially a dog. And you never explain why.”

Crowley and Aziraphale weren’t opposed to getting a pet for their household, expect for the fact that, on Adams eleventh birthday, he would get a vicious slobbering Hellhound that would terrorize whatever normal dog or cats or fish they got whether anyone in their family wanted it or not. Unfortunately, Adam didn’t know that, and thus had been asking for a dog every Christmas and every birthday before he even knew what food said animal even ate.

The two made eye contact across the table, seemingly having an entire conversation with their eyes *. Now, they had discussed about letting Adam know about his destiny before, and had agreed at somewhere around the age of nine was alright. He was a smart boy, and could understand what was at stake. Sure, he was a year earlier then they planned, but they came to the same decision that this was as good as time as any. Besides, they felt bad at constantly denying Adams request for a dog, so hopefully this would stop the questions for a few years.

* Adam was pretty sure they were psychic.

“This - this conversation is better in the living room.” Aziraphale stood up. “Come on, dear, we can finish eating after.”

Confused, Adam didn’t even bring his dishes to the sink, just followed his parents silently into the living room. They were acting weird, looking at eachother with anxious expressions and frowning hard. Slowly, he flopped down on the couch, and both his parents came to sit on each of his sides. It’s how they always sat when the family needed to have an  _important_ conversation, or when Adam was in trouble. Sometimes both, like when he was out after curfew.

Expect this didn’t seem like one of those times. His parents usually didn’t look this worried, and these important-slash-you’ve-been-bad conversations didn’t happen during dinner. He didn’t think he was in trouble for asking about a dog, as he had asked before and it had never resulted in  this , but, well, his parents were still putting him on edge.

As Adam thought, Aziraphale took a deep breath and Crowley debated putting his sunglasses back on. He had removed them during dinner, and despite knowing he would feel safer with them on, he knew Adam and Aziraphale would prefer if he kept them off, so he did. Aziraphale, meanwhile, was trying to figure out how to gently let his son know he was the Antichrist. He didn’t think there  was an gentle way. Goodness, he wished he had written some talking points down.

“Well, let’s start simple.” His dad finally said. “Do you know what Armageddon is?”

Their family had never been religious, but Adam still knew what the end of the world was. “Yeah. When the world ends.”

“And, in, well, in some religions, Armageddon is brought upon by a person called the Antichrist.” Azirapahle replied.

That word sounded familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite place it, so he didn’t say anything. His pops picked up where the other parent had left off. “And the Antichrist is suppose to be the ‘son of Satan’ or whatever — you know who Satan is, right?” He waited for Adam to nod before continuing *. “And when the Antichrist is eleven-years-old a Hellhound, a dog from Hell, as the name implies, the end of the world is suppose to happen.”

* Once again, he only had a very brief knowledge of the deity. He had heard older kids at school and people on TV and books and even his parents mention Satan before, but he didn’t really care enough to look that far into it.

Now, Adam was a smart boy. He prided himself on getting good grades in school, and he felt like he knew a lot about the world because of all the things he read and shows he watched. He also understood how his parents worked. They wouldn’t tell him about the Antichrist and Armageddon if it was important, and so he asked. “What does that have to do with why we can’t get a dog?”

“Adam ... you will get a dog. On your eleventh birthday.” Crowley said slowly, afraid of the reaction. “Do you understand what we’re saying?”

The connection sparked in his brain. “Oh.”

There was about a full minute of only crickets outside and the whir of the houses small air conditioner as Adam processed all the new information. He was already taking it better than Crowley and Aziraphale had expected, but still, silence from the usual rambunctious eight-year-old would always be worrisome to his parents.

Adam, meanwhile, was slowly turning everything his parents said over in his head. On TV, the people who wanted to end the world were villains. He didn’t  want to be a villain, he always wanted to be the good guy. If he ended the world, his friends wouldn’t want to hang out with him, and his parents would probably ground him, and then there would be no shows to watch or books to read or anything to do.

“I don’t want to end the world.” He whispered. “I like the world.”

“And you won’t.” Crowley replied. “Its why we took you in. You’re not going to end it, you’re strong, and it’s still a few years away —“

“Why did  _you_ take me?” Adam said. “You guys aren’t human too, right? It’s why you have wings and pops has weird eyes *.”

* If he was being honest with himself, Adam always knew his parents weren’t human. Other kids at school didn’t pet their parent as a snake or kept a box of their feathers under their bed. But he still hung onto that vow he made to his parents years ago to keep their secret like a spy, so he had never said anything.

“Hmm, well, what does your pops call me all the time?” Aziraphale asked, a hint of a smile in his voice.

“Angel.” Adam replied without hesitation. “Wait, I thought that was just, like, a nickname or something.”

“It kinda of is.” Crowley said. “But, yeah, that’s what your dad actually is. It’s why his wings are white, remember?”

Adam nodded, recalling the last time he had seen his parents wings. Every so often they would make their wings appear and groom the feathers to perfection. Adam was allowed to watch and even touch their wings if he promised not to hurt them, which he never did. The feathers were the softest things he had ever felt, softer than his bedsheets, and he had been allowed to take a few to keep in his room, like he did with cool rocks or weirdly-shaped sticks he found.

He remembered his dads snow-white wings, fluffy and spread wide behind his back. And his pops dark wings, the complete opposite, sleek and shiny as they fluttered. However, it made him think.

“Is pops an angel, too?” He asked, before turning to his aforementioned parent. “You have black wings. Or ...” He gasped. “Are you a demon? Demons usually wear black.”

Despite the seriousness, Crowley chuckled at his sons shocked face and fast-thinking mind. “Yeah, I’m a demon. It’s why I can turn into a snake.”

“Oh.” He glanced between his parents. “A good demon, right? Because I thought demons were evil.”

It was Aziraphale who answered, smiling. “The best.” 

“Oh, please, angel. You flatter me.” Crowley grinned wickedly at his husband, showing off his sharper-then-usual teeth. Adam giggled, the sound was like music to his parents ears.

However, Aziraphale ignored him. “You pops is the nicest, most kindest demons I know.”

Crowley rolled his eyes, now shifting uncomfortably under the praise, and nudged his side with his elbow. “Yeah, and by comparison,  you are the most stuffy and rudest angel I know.”

“Nah, dad is polite!” Adam interjected before his dad could shoot back. “He’s more polite than you. Wait, is that because you’re a demon? Do you wear all black because of that too?”

His pops laughed and tapped his nose with one long finger. “Sure. Look, now down we got ... that out in the open, do you want to go finish dinner?”

“Uh. Okay.” Adam said. Both his parents stood up with a shared chuckle, but he stayed sitting for a few moments. Just before they were about to ask what was the matter, he shyly spoke up. “I’m not gonna end the world, right?”

Slowly, his pops kneeled down in front of him and placed his hands on his knees. “Adam, look at me.” He did, staring into the familiar golden eyes. “Adam, you’re a wonderful kid. You collect rocks, and play with lego, and you love us and you love your friends. You’re not gonna end the world, cus’ you’re too good for that.”

He nodded, glancing between his two parents. His pops was still looking at him, and his dad stood behind him, smiling comfortingly. While it was a lot to take in, they let him work through it on his own pace, and Adam knew that they would help him with whatever he needed, so he took a deep breath and nodded again. “Okay. Can we eat now?”

***

_ February, 2018 _

_ (Tadfield) _

Adam woke up breathing heavily.

He was greeted by his bedroom ceiling, the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars stuck on his ceiling the only sources of light in the room *. However, even the comforting multicoloured stars weren’t enough to shake the tendrils of fear still lodged in his brain from the nightmare that had just woken him up.

* His blinds were closed to keep the sunlight out in the morning so he could sleep, but he was regretting now.

He couldn’t remember the specifics of it, only the feelings it had left behind. Cold terror threatening to drown him, blind panic that swept threw him until he was left alone and cold in the dark. He sucked in a deep breath, the sound overwhelming in his quiet bedroom, and clutched his blankets tighter under his chin and stared out in his room, trying to calm himself.

Expect it wasn’t working. His bedroom was suppose to be comforting, it was outfitted with all his favourite toys and posters and books, but just then it seemed like the shadows were reaching for him, long cold fingers with sharp nails ready to tear him down and take him away. He remembered that, too, from his nightmares. Shadows with glowing eyes trying to steal him away from his family and his friends.

Just thinking about it made fear shoot through him, strong enough to make him sniffle wetly.

He wanted his parents. They were sleeping just done the hall, he could get them and they would slow his heartbeat and hold him tight. He debated stepping out of his bed to go do just that, but one look at the darkness made him reconsider. Expect ...

He was ten-years-old, he shouldn’t be scared of the dark. He bet Greasy Johnson wouldn’t go crying to his parents because he was afraid of the shadows around his room, expect, well, he knew Greasy Johnsons parents weren’t that good of parents. He had good parents. They didn’t lie to him or accuse  _him_ of lying when he was telling the truth, like most adults did. His parents would ... they would help him. They always did.

He just had to get there first.

Taking another deep breath, and slowly removed his covers from under his chin to his waist. When nothing attacked him, he flung the rest aside leaving him cold and bare in the PJs. Nothing in his room moved, the plastic stars still glowed above. Even slower than before, he swung his legs around to plant his feet on the floor. Nothing grabbed at his ankles, nothing hissed under the bed *, so he contained his sniffles and stood up.

* A rational part of his brain said the gap under his bed wasn’t big enough to fit a monster, but that part was long gone.

However, as soon as he did, he was forced to look into the inky blackness of his room. He thought he could see shapes forming from the shadows, but quickly closed his eyes and took another deep breath. His parents alway said that was suppose to help, since your brain would go crazy without oxygen, or something. He hadn’t been listening at the time, but whatever they had said seemed to work because when he opened his eyes again the shade had receded into nothingness.

_Nothings there_. He told himself.  _Nothings there, and if there is, dad and pops can get rid of it._

Repeating that over in his head, particularly blind, Adam stumbled forward towards his doorway. He made it without stubbing his toe or stepping on any strewn about toys, and shuffled into the hallway, keeping one hand on the wall to guide himself. Muscle memory lead his body towards his parents room, and he kept his gaze trained down at his feet, just the outlines in the dark, as he walked, afraid if he looked into the hallway it would look back.

“I am ten-years-old. I am the Antichrist. My dad is an angel and my pops is an demon.” He whispered to himself. “I am not scared.”

He was. But he kept going anyways.

He reached the doorway and grabbed the nob, shockingly cold against his sweaty palms. For a moment he paused, unsure if he should knock or just enter, but he had never knocked before and he felt as if eyes were piercing into his back, so turned the knob and pushed the door open, the normal creaking sound grating against his ears,

It was dark in his parents room, but he could clearly see the shape of them in the bed. However, it was only dark for a split second before the light flicked on, revealing the startled faces of his parents. Both were wearing sleepwear *, but didn’t look groggy for just being woken.

* Though Adam knew they didn’t sleep much.

“Adam, is everything okay?” His dad asked.

He opened his mouth, closed it, and swallowed. The monsters of his nightmare began to swirl around him again, grabbing at his clothing and tugging his hair. He wrung his sleep shirt sleeve so hard he thought the stitching would fray, and took another step forward, away from twisting shapes and preying darkness.

“I had a nightmare.” He said quietly, and it felt like a deadly confession in the dim room. 

However, his parents did tell him to go away or deal with it on his own, but instead, his pops patted the space in between them and his dad answered. “Come in with us, Adam.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. The boy all but ran over to the bed and clambered on top from the foot of it, making his way across the blankets to crawl in between his parents, with his pops lifting the blanket for him to shimmy underneath. It was warm in between them, comforting and soft, and he immediately felt calmer surrounded by them.

His parents began to arrange themselves around him. Eventually, they settled, with both of them laying on their sides facing him. Aziraphale wrapped one arm his shoulders and leaned over to kiss his temple before setting his head down on the pillow next to him, while Crowley threw his arm across before of them and huffed our a sigh. Neither commented anymore, knowing that if Adam wanted to talk about his nightmare he would, but they were calm now as they saw the boy yawned.

“Sleep well, Adam.” His dad said softly. “No more bad dreams.”

Adam believed him, and let himself slowly drift off in the grabs of his dreams once more. However, now he knew he wasn’t alone, and the darkness around them receded.

***

_ PRESENT DAY _

Adam yelped when Dog tried to run after an orange tabby cat, but was held back by the leash and subsequently nearly pulled his arm off. “Hey!”

His pet barked as the cat slinked away, the winner in the brief battle of wills, and Dog turned to look at him as if saying ‘ _do you see the nerve on them?_ ’  Adam giggled at the dog and reached down to scratch it once behind the ears as a prize for defending him against the mean neighbourhood stray, before continuing on their walk.

Both his parents had left early that morning, out at their own residences in case any surprise meetings with their superiors popped up, leaving Adam alone all day ever since he had woken up. Him and his friends had hung out in the morning until they had to leave to do their own things, so Adam decided to take Dog for a walk around the village, not quite ready to go home to an empty house just yet.

Like most things in his life, Adam liked Tadfield. It had tons of places to play, always had perfect weather, and most of the other residents were friendly enough to him and his friends. It was the picturesque village that reminded him of villages from storybooks his dad use to read him when he was little, surrounded by trees and filled with quietness.

Well, quietness in the symbolic sense, because as Adam walked down the street with Dog he could hear;

“I can't believe it! I  _can't_ believe it!” Someone was shouting, then followed by the crash of something breaking. “Three hundred and fifty years my family kept it safe. Three hundred and fifty years! So stupid!”

He quickened his pace and rounded the corner, and it took him a moment to register what he was seeing.

Out in the front yard of Jasmine Cottage, Anathema Device was stomping around and smashing things. He heard the crack of glass as a plate shattered against a rock, and flinched when something hit the other side of fence beside him and made it jiggle. He hurried towards the front to get a better view of the witch, and he noticed tear tracks staining her cheeks. Dog barked, and she didn’t even seem to notice, so he took a tentative step forward.

“Hey, Mi — Anathema.” He greeted, a bit louder than his usual speaking voice to be heard over the other noise. “Is everything okay?”

The woman paused in her plate smashing as the sound of his voice, and whipped around to look at him. Her face immediately changed from frustration to relief. She rushed over to the fence, the sound of glass crunching under her boots. “Oh, hello. Adam! Yes, oh thank god.”

The woman gripped the top of the fence hard enough her knuckles turned white, and she leaned across to stare at him. He took a small step back to avoid her if she went tumbling over the fence. Before he could say anything, she was talking again. “Adam, did I leave a book in your car last night?”

He thought back to last night. His friends had been excited at the fact he had seen the witch again, but he had mentioned she had been holding the same book from the woods. However, he didn’t recall it ever being left in the Bentley. “No, I don’t think so.”

Her face fell, bottom lip wobbling. “O - oh.” 

Worried she was about to start crying again, he shoved his hands in his pockets and said. “I mean, maybe, it was dark out. My parents took the car today, but I can check for you when they get back.”

The witch perked back up. “Really? That’s nice of you.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s not much trouble. If I don’t find it maybe my Dad can get you another copy of the book. He owns a bookshop and knows a lot of bookdealers and stuff, so I’m sure he can find it.”

Anathema finally stepped back from the fence and smoothed out her dress. “That’s sweet of you, but the book was ... one of a kind. But since you’re helping me, do you want some lemonade?”

“Uh.” His parents  _had_ said to stay away from Anathema yesterday, and there was also the fact she was still basically a stranger to him. However, he had Dog, his parents had given her a ride last night, and he was thirsty from walking around the neighbourhood and playing with his friends. Besides, she still looked upset, and his dad always said to help people when they were upset. “Sure.”

She smiled and opened the gate for him before making her way down the cobblestone path up towards the house. He shut the gate softly behind him and followed, Dog falling into step beside him. The garden around them was pretty, but a bit overgrown *, and Dog sniffed the air curiously.

* Since most of the clients renting out the cottage weren’t there long enough to take care of it.

However, as they approached the cottage door, the animal suddenly halted. 

Adam stumbled to a stop when Dog froze, and turned to see it whining where it stood, refusing to move. He tugged on its leash, but it was still as steady as rock, despite the fact it was shaking horribly. Anathema had stopped in the doorway, watching the boy and his dog in confused curiosity.

“Come on, boy. Come inside.” He said. Then, added forcefully. “Dog.”

The animal only whined again and pawed at the ground. However, Adam noticed it was pointing its head up, above the doorway and growling slightly. He glanced above the doorframe and saw an old rusted horseshoe. It had always been there for as long as the cottage had been around, Mrs Fender use to say, to protect inhabits from evil. Now that he thought about it, whenever his Pops had joined him and his Dad on trips over, he had always stayed in the garden ...

Dog whined again. Anathema shuffled behind him, the sound of skirts making a loud rustling noise.

“You can just leave him in the garden.” She said.

He glanced at her, then back at Dog. “Are you sure? He usually listens to whatever I say.”

“I noticed. He’s very well-trained, so I’m sure he’ll be fine.” She replied. 

He shrugged, then crouched down to scratch Dog behind the ears and pick a small leaf off its back. “Alright, boy, you don’t need to come inside. Just stay in this yard. No chasing cats, no attacking anyone, and only bark if somethings wrong. Alright?”

The animal blinked and wagged its tail in acknowledgement, so he stood up and turned back to Anathema, who had been watching them. She cocked her head at the two of them. “How long have you had him?”

“Only a few days, I got him for my birthday.” He said as he followed her inside.

He was immediately bombarded by the smell of jasmine and old-fashioned, frilly furniture. He had been in the cottage a few times before, back when it was owned by Mrs Fender, but he hadn’t visited for a few years. It looked just as he remembered, decorations and all, but it wasn’t really the type of house he expected a witch to rent out. He would expect she wanted something darker, and  not covered in pink.

However, he didn’t want to appear rude, so he didn’t comment when Anathema showed him to the kitchen and started getting cups down from the cupboard. He awkwardly sat down at the kitchen table, which was covered in paper and cue cards scribbled on in red ink. Not wanting to be rude, he made sure not to look at the words as he gently stacked a few of the pieces together to clear a space when the woman walked over and sat a small glass of lemonade in front of him.

“Thanks.” He said, taking a sip. It was a bit more bitter than he was use too, but he wasn’t going to refuse it.

“No problem.” Anathema sat down beside him with her own glass, brushing a few of the papers out of the way.

For a few minutes they sat in awkward silence, drinking their lemonade, until he couldn’t stand it anymore and finally looked up at her. “Can I ask you something?”

Anathema smiled amusingly at that, her grip on her cup loosening. “Sure, go ahead.”

He tilted his head. “Why were you smashing things outside?”

“Oh, I was ... “ She waved a hand as she thought of the word she needed. “upset over loosing my book. And my mother always said a good way to get your negative emotions out was to break things.”

He took another drink of his lemonade, flinging a bit when ice clinked against his teeth. “Was it your favourite book? I’d be upset if I lost  my favourite book, expect my parents would never let me smash things.”

She frowned, face twisting into a hard-to-place emotion. “I mean, not really, no. It was just important. It’s been in my family for centuries, and they would be upset if I lost it. Probably more upset then I am.”

“Oh. Why’s it important?”

“Complicated.”

Adam never liked that word, since adults usually use it to avoid explaining things to him. However, instead of sharing that out loud, as he wasn’t sure how Anathema would react *, he just finished off his glass of lemonade and lifted it up to show her. “Do you want me to put this in the sink?”

* Adam wasn’t good as guessing ages, but he didn’t think she was a  full adult yet. If he had to guess, maybe in her twenties? Younger than the age his parents appeared as.

“Uh, sure, do you want anymore?” She asked hesitantly.

“No thanks.” He said, getting up to put his cup in the sink. “My parents say I shouldn’t drink to many sugary things.” 

Anathema only nodded and turned back to her own drink. When Adam went to sit back down at the table, however, he noticed something flashy on the counter catching the kitchen light. He glanced at it, and noticed it was the smooth cover of magazines. He briefly read the title before picking it up, feeling he material under his thumb.

However, he was startled by Anathema suddenly appearing beside him, placing her cup besides his in the sink and leaning over his shoulder do see what he was looking at. “Do you like magazines?”

“Oh, sorry.” He hastily put them down.

“No, no, it’s fine.” She said. “You can look at them. I’m not sure how invested you are in ... grown-up things, but you might enjoy those if you like reading.”

One of the things that annoyed him the most was ‘grown-up things’, so he turned and tilted his head at her. “Politics?”

“Not politics, exactly.” She said. “Things like ... how they're cutting down the rain forest so you can get a cheap hamburger. Global warming. How because whales have huge brains, and they're hunting them for no reason. Nuclear power stations.”

His mouth twisted and he turned back to the magazines, picking them up and flicking through the pages. “Oh. I might like it then. I mostly read fantasy and sci-fi books, or old classicy stuff my Dad likes, but we went to a nuclear power station on a school trip once. And it was really dull.”

He could almost hear the frown in her voice. “Well, yes, but we need to get rid of them.”

He didn’t say anything, but he continued to flip through the magazines. As he read about poaching *, he was distantly aware of Anathema washing and drying their glasses and putting the lemonade back in the fridge. When she was done, she padded over and out a gentle hand on his shoulder, making him jump. However, she didn’t seem to notice.

* He knew what is was, but not the exact specifics. His Dad would be appalled to find him reading about something so gruesome, but his Pops would be delighted.

“Adam, I have to get back to work.” She said. “But it was lovely chatting with you. And, if you want, you can keep those old magazines. I don’t need them anymore.”

“Really?” He asked. “Wicked.”

She smiled awkwardly at him. “Uh, that’s not the word I would use, but sure.”

He grabbed the rest of the magazines and made sure he had Dogs leash still in his pocket, then smiled back at the woman. “Thank you for the lemonade, it was really good. And I’ll make sure to check if we have your book.”

She nodded. “Thank  you . Have a good day, Adam.”

“You too.” He said, already moving towards the front door. 

He waved goodbye before slipping back into the front garden, where Dog was still waiting patiently. Adam had half expected him to go running around the yard like he did at home, sniffing all the plants and generally making them terrified, but the animal was still sitting on the path, staring the horseshoe down with murderous intent.

“It’s okay, boy, we can go now.” He said, leaning down to clip the leash to his collar. It was just an old belt that had repurposed into a temporary collar *, but Adam wanted to get a permanent one at some point. He thought Dog would look good in blue. “Come on then, let’s go.”

* His parents had just wanted to miracle one, but it would have a bit suspicious. Besides, Adam wanted to pick one out himself.

He stood up and lead Dog out of the yard and back on the road, leash in one hand and magazines clutched in the other.

***

By the time he crawled into bed, Adam had already blew through three of the magazines.

In total, Anathema had given him about ten, all about different subjects. His favourite so far was the one about nuclear energy. It was nothing like the power plant his class had visited, and now he was surprised they had even let them there at all. He had shown his friends that magazine later, when they met up for a few minutes before dinner, but they didn’t believe it was an actual issue and instead thought it was just people making things up.

“They don’t just let you write anything.” Adam had told them. “It has to be real, or it wouldn’t be published.” *

* Which might be the case for textbooks and other novels, but magazines were a completely different story. Just ask Crowley.

And, so, he had left them to go have dinner with his parents. Both had returned from London only a few hours before, so instead of cooking they just order takeout. As they ate over Chinese from the family-owned store on the main street, Adam considered mentioning the magazines and his visit to Anathema earlier that day, but decided against it. His parents had given him clear instructions to stay away from the witch, and he didn’t think they would appreciate him accepting gifts from her.

Well, they might not mind if the gift had been something other then magazines. It wasn’t that he would get in trouble for reading. In fact, he was praised for it often when he was younger, it just that he didn’t think they would approve of his current material. Well, his Pops might, but his Dad would say he should read novels instead of skinny magazines.

And such, he had stayed silent, and made sure Dog didn’t eat any of the rice accidentally dropped on the floor.

He kept the magazines hidden under his bed, and after having a few sherbet lemons * for his dessert, he excused himself to his room to read. He managed to get through one more magazine before getting too tired to keep going, so instead of risking falling asleep with the pages still scattered around his room, he put them all away, got changed in his PJs and said goodnight to his parents before finally crawling under the covers.

* It was his absolute favourite candy, so there was always at least one bag hidden around the house. Usually in his room.

With thoughts of nuclear powerplants in his mind and the taste of lemon still in his mouth, Adam fell asleep a few minutes later with Dog curled up at the foot of his bed, not a care in the world.

Downstairs, Aziraphale and Crowley sat side by side on the couch, whispering softly to eachother with Agnes Nutters book between them. Crowley said something disheartening, and Aziraphale tutted him lightly, but frowned when he read the prophecy once more  — “ _When men come from the Earth and green men from the sky, yet not know why, and Plutos bombs leave the cases, and sunken lands rise and the monster than run free, and Brazil is green, then three come together and four arise, upon iron horses ride; I tell you the end draw nigh._ "

In Jasmine Cottage, Anathema settled down for bed, and looked sadly at her bedside table where the book usually sat, but was now empty. She, luckily, still had a few prophecies written down on flashcards, and she took those with her to look over before she fell asleep, but she still couldn’t help but feel frightened for what the future held.

Outside of Tadfield, a young man slept soundly in his bed, glasses folded neatly on the nightstand beside him and his car parked snugly outside, ready for his drive to the village tomorrow. Though no one — neither witch, angel, demon, boy or the man himself — knew it yet, it would not be a normal trip, and would instead be a life-changing journey for everyone involved.

And across the globe, workers at a nuclear power plant were horrified and shocked to find instead of their radioactive core, there was only a small still-wrapped, sherbet lemon at the bottom of the shaft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw, if you’re wondering why the love confession scene and the proposal scene was in Aziraphales pov it was bc if i did it in Crowley’s pov it would have just been static noise. they share one (1) braincell each and Crowley’s half of it is just filled with loving Aziraphale. 
> 
> (when they took in Adam they gave their braincell to him which is why he’s the only smart one in the family. but he still has only one so he’s still dramatic.)
> 
> anyway, please point out any grammar/spelling mistakes you see bc i know i missed some. it might be a little bit early, but happy holidays everyone. :) chapter four will most likely be out some time in the new year. thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> subway employee: you want a drink?   
> Crowley: just water  
> subway employee: *hands cup over*  
> Crowley: [goes to press pop] no [presses water]  
> [applause]  
> Crowley thinking as he walks away: and then i stole a baby
> 
> btw, i, uh, i dont really have a update schedule for this thing. currently, chapter two is somewhere between ‘this is an on fire garbage can’ and ‘yeah it looks okay’, chapter threes completion status can be described in vague hand gestures and an ‘ehh’ sound, and the rest of the chapters? its a surprise for all of us!!
> 
> please point out any grammar/spelling mistakes you see bc this is 9k goddamn words and it was suppose to be a fun little short project. i will be rereading and editing this again later but im v tired rn so im gonna to take a nap.
> 
> anyways thanks for reading i guess.


End file.
